Private Tales An Insubordinate Drunk

[Joseph Meier]

“Ma’am?”

Kitty looked up from her accounting. The Sphinx wasn’t a large creature, about the size of a housecat, but the elegant human face emerging from a ruff of white fur had a commanding air. She was the proprietor of the finest cat house at the edge of the fae woods…that just happened to be run by actual cats. Kitty’s was known for its exotic fare, both of the bedroom and culinary variety, and its expensive rooms. Kitty herself was almost as infamous as some of the exploits in those rooms. She blinked painted eyelids at the fellow Sphinx nervously shifting her paws on Kitty’s expensive office carpet.

“Yes?” She tucked the quill back into its ink pot, examining her paws for spots.

“He’s back. And he’s refusing to leave this time. I…the staff…”

Kitty gave an exasperated sigh, flicking her fluffy tail. “I’ll handle it. Tell the girls to leave him alone and the guards not to bother him. You didn’t give him any whiskey did you?” She asked, leaping down from her mahogany desk.

“Give is a rather strong word-“

Kitty rolled her eyes and pushed past the little grey cat, trotting out of her office and down the carpeted stairs and into the marble lobby. Plush couches held clients waiting to check in at the front desk, a rather long line considering the commotion down the hallway in their lounge. Kitty flicked an ear in irritation and smiled to the line of clients. “Someone will be along shortly to check you in, we appreciate your patience.” She said brightly as she trotted past. Out of eyesight, she broke into a run.

How dare he make her do something so unladylike!

The lounge was a huge room flanked by large glass windows overlooking the garden. It let in streams of natural light, splashing the rosewood bar and casting amber refractions off the bottles. The bartender was leaned against the wood, arguing with a skinny, short looking man dressed in simple woolen clothing. Joseph Meier, despite having enough cash to buy the place as a vacation home, was never one for ostentatious clothing. His black suit and vest were simple, patched, and worn.

Kitty pinned her ears back as she saw the empty bottles at his elbow. How much had he drank?

“-give a shit what you think my limit is!” Joseph snarled viciously at the bartender, slender fingers hooked around the neck of a whiskey bottle. “I paid for it, leave it!”

“Lord Meier.” Kitty snapped out sharply, leaping onto a barstool and up to the counter. “I think you’ve had quite enough. If your leg is bothering you, I am quite happy to offer our masseuse-“

“Fuck your masseuse.” Joseph grumbled. He yanked the bottle away from the bartender with a sharp tug and poured a generous helping into the crystal tumbler in front of him. “Just leave it alone, Kitty. It’s my anniversary.”

That explained the mood. Kitty sighed, and reached out to set a paw on his arm. “Drink as much as you need. I’ll have someone carry you up. Do you want the bar to yourself?”

“No need.” Joseph shrugged, and took a sip. “Just…let me stay here tonight.”

“I’ll have your normal room prepared.” Kitty leapt down, and wandered back toward the front of house. She snagged a servant passing by, a little Russian blue with a basket of soap in her teeth. Headed to the baths no doubt. “Have Lord Meier’s room prepared, a bath drawn, and a case of whiskey sent to the room. We’re in for a long evening.”

 

[Auntie Feekna]

Feekna inhaled deeply, considering the rich concoction of scents that pervaded the establishment. A mixture of fine liquor, of cooking food, a dash of exotic herbsmoke and expensive perfumes, sweet sweat and expectation; and the most delectable fragrance of all: joy. This was the ephemeral sort that came from pleasures won and needs sated, but that was what made it all the more piquant. Feekna savored the aroma even from her place in the unusually-long line that had formed in the lobby. Part of that was the fault of her coven, who had elected to make this their annual lunar gathering spot per Feekna's suggestion.

Like all of the crones, Feekna had dressed up for this occasion. Donning their glamors of youth, beauty and grace, they could have fooled anyone into believing they were the fairest of fae. Feekna's dark hair was braided elegantly down her back and her black velvet tunic dazzling beneath a corset tightened to the perfect figure and the most exquisite pain. This was her holiday after all, and she intended to enjoy it. The Sphinx always had such delightful boys on offer, and the rotroot wine was excellent too.

"Are they going to make us wait all century? We'll be 'round the wheel and young again by the time they let us in the lobby!" Whined Mertha from beside her while inspecting her green-painted nails.

"That would be an improvement for you. Your glamor is barely holding together!" Mother Moss retorted, drawing a collective cackle from the gathered hags.

Their commentary was cut short when Kitty herself came by and momentarily assuaged their impatience. It wasn't long after that they finally were able to move up to the front desk and check in with a friendly orange tabby.

"I must say, something in there smells absolutely divine today!" Mother Moss commented as she waved one hand over the crystal ball on the desk that registered their stay. "Something... tragic..."

"Something sour," Feekna muttered with a frown. Indeed, there was a peculiar odor wafting out of the lounge that Feekna found more disagreeable than Mother Moss did.

"We have the garden reserved for you for tonight, as requested. You each have a charm that will let you into your rooms. Please, enjoy your stay!" the tabby said with a welcoming swish of his tail.

Feekna split off from the rest of the coven once they entered the lounge. Though they were like sisters to her, she also couldn't stand them for more than a day. She was sure they felt the same way about her.

She was about to make her way to the bar when she noticed the aura of despair and rage hanging over the rosewood like a dense bank of fog. In the middle of it sat a small man nursing a whiskey bottle. Why, wasn't that- yes, that was Joseph Meier! The mortal man who had risen to a seat of power coveted by many. Any hag worth her salt had heard the rumors of the new High Lord of the Winter Court and the absolute scandal all around him. The man who made the pretty, pompous Duanann seethe with envy. How thrilling!

"Well old girl, this just became a mite more interesting, didn't it?" Feekna thought aloud with a sly smile and approached the bar on the far side of the notoriously volatile drunkard.

"I'll have what he's having, unless it's made of virgin fairy wings. Then perhaps the cheaper version," she told the bartender with a snicker, thinking it best to approach this with a peace offering. Plus nothing in all the realms encouraged a bit of healthy rumor-mongering quite like booze.

Joseph Meier

 

[Joseph Meier]

The bartender set an unopened bottle in front of Joseph, clearly ready to let the man babysit himself while he served the hags. Sphinxes appeared out of little doors near heating grates and hallways, subtle little passageways meant for people the size of house cats that ensured a servant was always just a pspsps away. They leapt merrily up on tables to take orders, offered delicacies, and soon the lounge was abuzz with conversation. The more services Kitty sold, the more she could cover the loss of Joseph’s temper tantrums.

That said, he didn’t begrudge her the money. He didn’t blame Kitty for his ill mood or his drinking. He did, however, wish that private bars existed.

The long suffering bartender glanced at Joseph, and shook his head. “Didn’t think there would be so much call for Floimish whiskey today. He’s got the last two bottles and Kitty has reserved a case. You can always ask him. You never know. As far as the virgin fairy wings…we always have that in stock. Let me know if I can get you anything else.” The bartender winked at her, and walked out from behind the bar to attend some of the other hags.

The loud slide of glass on wood rang down the bar. Joseph had shoved the unopened bottle down toward the hag, skillfully enough to keep it from tipping over entirely. Joseph refilled his glass, and took a sip quietly.

“Don’t see hags here often.” He muttered. “It’s on me.”

 

[Auntie Feekna]

Feekna couldn't hide her surprise at the offer, though she took it with an appreciative smile. She tugged the cork out of the bottle and took a whiff of its contents. He was certainly not drinking any of that cheap swill that kicked like Granny Killman's Cauldron Beer.

"Many thanks," she said, pouring some of the liquor into a nearby glass and sipping it. She rolled the liquid around in its crystal prison casually as she considered his observation.

"'Tis sadly true. My sisters and I don't get out in the world as much as we would like to. Especially not to nice places like this," she said with a slightly melodramatic sigh of lament before looking back at Joseph, her smile toothy behind the mask of youth draped over her. Of course, there were all sorts of fae who looked down on hags with disgust and fear, which the hags took as a compliment.

She wasn't sure anyone outside of the room would believe she'd met a High Lord in this sort of establishment either - at least, not at the bar. And with all of that miasma about him... he clearly was here to drown in it. It made her wonder...

"A drink brewed smooth as tears," she said of the liquor after taking another sip. She let her voice slip from the maidenly into that of motherly concern that instilled a sense of trustworthiness with most sentient creatures. "'Tis something drunk not to recall joy, but to forget sadness. Oh, are you feeling sad, dearie?"

Joseph Meier

 

[Joseph Meier]

Joseph fixed her with a look. What did she want from him? She probably knew who he was. Anyone with half a brain knew about the limping, short, rather ugly mess of a creature he was. Joseph wasn’t the tall, willowy creature people envisioned High Lords to be. He carried no weapon except the sharp tongue in his mouth, and the finest thing on his body was his underwear. Clearly, any attempts to remain subtle had been thwarted by one sharp eyed hag. The others seemed content to snack and chat.

He didn’t, however, appreciate her tone. He snorted, and downed his glass. “It’s cheap rotgut…don’t lie and pretend it’s anything but. As for your question, it’s none of your god damn business what I drink, and where and when I drink it.” Joseph’s face contorted, twisted, smoothing out his sharp features. He became distinctly feminine, breasts sprouted from his chest, and his body reformed from a twig into a picture of healthy womanhood. Only the twisted foot in its cage of metal remained.

“Don’t make me take your place at your own coven, dearie.” He hissed in Feekna’s own voice, her own face reflected back at her with a smirk.

“Be nice, Joseph.” The bartender barked as he came back, beginning to prepare the long list of orders in his hand.

Joseph released the form, Feekna’s own cackle deepening into his own as his features settled back across his face. Magic crawled in his flesh like insects, withering breasts and returning his body to its own skinny self.

 

[Auntie Feekna]

Feekna wasn't taken aback by Joseph's mockery; by all accounts, this was no more scathing treatment than what the hags gave each other whenever they got together.

“Don’t make me take your place at your own coven, dearie.” He hissed in Feekna’s own voice, her own face reflected back at her with a smirk.

Feekna cackled in response, quite pleased at the trickery aimed back at her. "Now that would be a nice holiday, if you can put up with my sisters and their rude magick. Maybe we can make a wager about that later. Would give you a chance to try some of the true swill too, if you've the stomach for it. T'would stoke that fire you've got blazing in that pretty head of yours."

She looked over the doppelganger of herself with vain approval until it twisted and morphed back into Joseph's sharp features.

"A wonderful trick, dearie." She spoke in true admiration, for she loved a good prank regardless of the reason for it.

"Such fire to be found in the heart of Winter... but does it keep the cold away?"

Feekna kept sipping her drink, though she knew she probably hovered at the edge of provocation, which was why she was already considering all the ways she could get out if she needed to. Not that it was likely she'd receive more than a lashing of words considering their surroundings and the proximity of her coven. But still, a hag was always mindful of such things.

Joseph Meier

 

[Joseph Meier]

Joseph fixed her with a look. "It's my anniversary. God rest Fell Amsel...may she burn in misery, wherever she is." Joseph raised his glass to an imaginary woman, and drank deeply. He looked down into his glass, thinking. He had loved Fell, so, so deeply. They had children together...never mind Adriana was off serving the Summer Court and his son was taking over the horse ranch in Floiland. He was proud of his children. They just had lives of their own now, and less likely to tolerate a drunken rant from their father about their mother. He ran his fingers through his hair, looking at the wood of the bar.

Fell Amsel had given him a lordship. She had given him immortality, and power beyond his wildest imagining. She had given him estates, money, more land than he could ever dream of. Yet she had abused him, torn his heart into pieces and stitched them together when it suited her best. The worst kind of woman; a beautiful, terrible mess. How foolish he had been to be pulled in by those large eyes and the desperation of an iron heart burning in her chest.

"If you must know...I'm getting up the courage to kill her. Her, and the rest of the Winter Court. All the lords, anyway." Joseph muttered, pouring himself another glass.

"Watch your words, Joseph." The bartender warned.

"If Mab wants me, she can come get me!" Joseph snarled venomously, bristling until the bartender moved off. Joseph calmed, and looked at the hag. "I don't suppose you see anything other than a curiosity. Or worse, something you can profit off of. I'm not so easily tricked, hag, not after all this time."

 

[Auntie Feekna]

Feekna took in Joseph's tale with little interest up to the part where he admitted a certain displeasure at the continued existence of the Winter Court. She'd not personally heard of this 'Fell Amsel', but she obviously held one hells of a spell over this man's soul.

"Hmmm... holding a grudge against an entire court? Aren't you an audacious one," she said with a click of her tongue and a sly grin. She didn't care one way or another if the lords bedded each other or killed each other; hags didn't typically align with a court unless it suited them, and only up until it didn't. She nursed her drink and said nothing more until the bartender moved out of earshot once again.

"Trick you? I'm on holiday, dearie. I do not work when I'm on holiday. But I am curious as to how you plan on contending with Mab herself. Many have tried - none have succeeded."

Joseph Meier

 

[Joseph Meier]

"That court robbed me of the last years of my family's lives. I watched them grow old and die around me. Six brothers, a mother, all withered away by age while I stay...this." Joseph growled. "Mab had the chance to stop my wife and she didn't. Fell is now stuck in the Autumn Court, not alive, not dead. Something in between. She can suffer until the end of days, but Mab owes me a life. The Summer Court doesn't deserve its opulence either. The Autumn Court uses the Wild Hunt to kill the innocent along with the guilty. They're all corrupt. So why not destroy them?"

He snorted. "I'd need to find an old friend to do so. See if he finally succeeded in killing himself or if he ever solved that pesky issue of his head being rented out like a boarding house. Tell me, hag. Your kind live in these woods. Have you ever encountered a human that didn't feel....right? He'd be in his sixties or seventies, eyes like chips off a glacier. No sense of humor. I used to know where his home was in these woods, some beautiful cabin on the edge of a lake. Or. You could help." He chuckled into his next sip. "A hag, helping a lord."

 

[Auntie Feekna]

I guess we all go as mad as a frog in a boiling pot at some point, she thought to herself with amusement. She'd been a mortal once herself, but she remembered them differently. Or she just had a different perspective after so many years of living as she was now.

Most Mortals were such boring things, driven by short-sighted desires and big ambitions trapped in tiny imaginations. Even among the most desperate of those who came knocking on a hag's door, rarely did one have the good sense to bargain for any real power or offer anything actually meaningful in return.

So it was that Feekna found the lord's rabid hunger for vengeance intriguing. It took a great anger, and a great imagination, to consider such a dream as to take on all of the courts. Well, almost all of them. Feekna herself knew, and she was sure her coven would agree, that it was absolute folly to fight Mab. But to sow a little chaos... to simply provide the slightest push, maybe even a little armament... that was a different cauldron altogether.

"I doubt my coven would agree to something so reckless, but that does not mean we cannot be of help. We are always humble vendors of charms, hexes and potions to suit any need!

"As for this human you speak of... I've encountered a great deal of humans who weren't right, and a fair amount of humorless sacks of meat. This cabin, though... perhaps one of my sisters has come across such a place. I will ask on your behalf."

She closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on using the bond between the hags of the coven. After a few moments, she opened them again and focused on Joseph.

"A bit of luck, dearie. Mertha has seen a cabin by a lake, and a human living there, deep in the woods. Not far from her home. I'm sure she'd be willing to part with that information, for a price."

Joseph Meier

 

[Joseph Meier]

“There’s wrong…and then there’s as damaged as I am.” Joseph said quietly. Reinhard Volker. The pit dog of the Autumn Court. Enslaved to a wraith, every sire, grandsire, and great grand sire crammed into his skull like the world’s worst family reunion. Volker had left his side for the same reason he drank himself into a stupor every day; he had wanted to find some sort of peace. Joseph only hoped it wasn’t too late, and Volker hadn’t passed the Well of Souls onto the next unfortunate son in line.

He watched as the hag conferred with the rest of her coven, and opened her eyes to confront him again. He set the whiskey glass aside and regarded her. “I could pay her. Or you could lead me there, and I could pay you twice over what the information is worth. Money is of little use to you hags, but I have secrets. Secrets about the other courts, heart break, the greatest joys I have ever felt and the greatest losses a man could savor. What I offer is this: take me to him, and I will let you experience the first tinge of joy in an old killer’s heart. The thing that made him young again. Or his greatest loss, whichever you want.”

 

[Auntie Feekna]

Feekna bit her bottom lip as she considered his offer. She would probably miss the coven's semi-centennial lunar gathering, and maybe the rest of her holiday as well. It would be a job. But in exchange... the secrets she could hoard! The sweet, sweet taste of the precious and rare joy he offered! It was too good of an offer to refuse.

Eh, I never cared much for Mertha anyway.

"I know the way to Mertha's lair as well as I know my own eyeteeth. Finding this man and his cabin from there will be just a little skip in the woods, from what she told me."

She got up and walked over to him, hand outstretched for a shake that would confirm their deal, other hand held out in the open so he could see she wasn't crossing her fingers.

"I'll agree to take you to this man in return for 'the first tinge of joy in an old killer's heart', and two secrets that the courts hide. Do we have a deal, dearie?"

Joseph Meier

 

[Joseph Meier]

Joseph eyed the hag. She could find Volker for him. The question was whether the man wanted to help him kill his ex-wife or not. Or whether the hag would survive an encounter with a man built for killing Fae. Joseph had to admit, Oor had been a bastard but a bastard with one hell of a gift for magic. Still, it was worth a shot. Volker was his best friend, even if they hadn’t spoken for the better half of six years.

“Deal.” Joseph slid off the barstool, grabbing the bar to support himself. His left leg hit the floor with a heavy thud. “First, baths. Im not walking half a dozen miles without soaking this.” He rapped the bar with his knuckles. “Charge it to Chaceledon’s tab. Old lizard owes me a few drinks.”

A panicked Sphinx hurried toward them, bowing to the hag and Joseph.

“My lord Meier, we’d really recommend you and your companion stay the evening. We’ve prepared your private room-“

“I like housecats better when they don’t talk, don’t you?” Joseph eyed the hag. “What’s your name, anyway? I can’t keep calling you hag. And we leave whenever we want, cat. Tell Kitty to add it to my growing tab and take it up with my Secretary.”

 

[Auntie Feekna]

"A deal made is a price paid," Feekna said cheerfully as they sealed the deal, a simple but common utterance of a promise spoken in one form or another across the ages. "Of course. I'm in no hurry. We'll leave whenever you're ready, dearie. I'll be in the Enchanted Mush-Room. Just knock on my door when you're ready to leave."

She was feeling quite pleased with herself. Of course, she expected that the Winter Lord was not telling her everything about this man he sought. It was very likely that Mertha had withheld some piece of valuable information as well. All the better that Feekna believed that she never came unprepared; various charms for her own protection weighed down pockets unseen beneath her gothic attire. A few small potion bottles were also kept on her person for a rainy day.

“I like housecats better when they don’t talk, don’t you?” Joseph eyed the hag. “What’s your name, anyway? I can’t keep calling you hag.

She merely shrugged, figuring the first question to be rhetorical.

"Auntie Feekna," she declared proudly, as if her name was a title in and of itself. Among hags, this was quite the case, for their various designations meant something to them even if they sounded utterly silly to other creatures. "Though we can probably do without the formalities. Just Auntie will do."

With that, she left him to his bath and wandered back over to one of the tables where her peers were conversing.

"Did you just strike a deal with Lord Meier?" Mother Moss, glamored in the form of a tiny elven maiden, asked incredulously. Feekna only offered a sly grin in response. Moss shook her head with a tut and chuckled.

"My, Auntie Feekna, has your old brain finally rotted away in that swamp? Working with some court dandy... and one so volatile, at that. The tender young men must not come around your way as much as they used to."

Feekna felt a distinct jealousy evident in Moss's jibes, which made her all the happier. "Bah! A little volatility keeps one young, keeps one sharp. You could do with a bit of adventure, instead of sulking in that wretched cave of yours like a hibernating bear."

The other hags at the table cheered them on, enjoying the show of competition. Mother Moss opened her mouth to offer a biting retort, but Feekna waved her away dismissively and started to walk away.

"Giving up already? Is my tongue too sharp for poor old Auntie?" Moss called after her.

"Unlike you, I've got places to be," Feekna grumbled and headed off to her room. She might as well get comfortable for a short while until they set off into the woods.

Joseph Meier

 

[Joseph Meier]

After a few hours, a plaintive little knock sounded on Auntie Feekna’s room. A little brown Sphinx bowed. “Ma’am, Lord Meier awaits you downstairs.” She said lightly, and sprang away down the hallway.

Joseph was settled at the front desk, flipping through the guestbook, another drink at his elbow. Kitty was sitting to his other side, tail lashing in irritation. Joseph flicked through the pages, his eyes raking down the list of names and signatures.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting to find. I haven’t seen Rheinhard Volker or Chaceledon for months.” Kitty said archly. “And they sign the guestbook about as often as you do.”

“You’re forgetting something.” Joseph shoved the book at her and limped out from behind the counter. “Klaus B. He’s using his married name.”

Kitty stared at the entry, blinking. The fur on her shoulders fluffed and raised, like graveyard fingers in her skin. Joseph gave her a somber look. “Huge number of people to check in and worrying about me. He slipped right past you.” Joseph said quietly.

“Bar the door, check everyone’s rooms! I don’t want anyone in the baths, private rooms, garden, greenhouse or the massage tables!” Kitty barked at one of her maids, leaping down from the desk. “Check all the girls’ rooms! Check the basement! Klaus was here.”

The maid froze, eyes going wide and ears going back. “Oh…oh gods I haven’t heard anything from Lystra today…” she whispered.

“Guessing you’ll find her in her room, missing a lot of vital organs. Get it cleaned up. He’ll have cut and run; he likes sowing panic.” Joseph muttered. “And where the hell is that hag? The sooner we get to his house the sooner I can put a collar on the maniac.”

A loud shriek from upstairs made Joseph wince. “I’m already nursing a headache!” He bellowed angrily. A small flood of Sphinx came rushing down the stairs, tails fluffed and hackles raised.

“Madam, Lystra’s been-“

“Murdered, we know.” Joseph snapped. “He eat the whole thing or just rape her?”

“The-the whole room…” One of the maids stammered.

“Great, he’s getting back into arts and crafts.” Joseph sighed and picked up his glass.

“Joseph that’s enough.” Kitty snarled at him.“Girls, take the evening off. I’ll handle this. Keep everyone in their rooms until security has had a chance to sweep the building.”

“And find my hag! I want to get out of here before the carpet starts stinking.” Joseph called after the sphinxes.

 

[Auntie Feekna]

"Such possessiveness, dearie," Feekna cackled a bit as she picked her way past the panicking sphinxes and over to the front desk, where she bowed with a flourish. "But as you requested, Auntie is here!"

"There's been a murder? Oh, dear..." she said with a sickly sweetness to no one in particular. She scratched her chin with a sigh. So much for her pick of the coven's meeting place. If their ritual was cancelled over some bloody indiscretion, she'd never hear the end of it. It made her share Joseph's impatience to get the hells out of here before questions started swarming like mosquitoes.

"I do hope this doesn't put a damper on our excursion," she commented to Joseph. One of the few remaining employees in the room shot Feekna a suspicious look.

"What? T'wasn't any of us! We made a pact before we came that we would behave. None of my sisters be breaking such a thing. Besides, we don't waste our food!" she said innocently.

The sphinx turned and trotted anxiously from the room.

Joseph Meier

 

[Joseph Meier]

“Quite the opposite. The murderer is the man we’re looking for. Or at least, the one currently in the driver’s seat.” Joseph drained his glass and set it on the front desk. “Six hundred and change men in your head, you have to let them out for a little vacation every once in a while or you look selfish.”

He eyed the Sphinx giving the hag a look. “It was Klaus, not her, quit bothering the hags. Gods, who the hell is Kitty hiring these days that they can’t take care of one wraithtouched maniac?” Joseph snorted and limped for the front door, unbuttoning his vest and tossing it on a couch. His shirt was next. “You comfortable leading the way, Auntie?”

Joseph unbuckled his pants and kicked them off, unstrapping the iron brace around his leg. Black fur rippled over his form, and he shifted the brace to his mouth as his hands and feet became paws. His mouth extended outward, becoming a muzzle, and his eyes stained gold. Within a few minutes a black shepherd dog was standing next to Feekna, holding his brace in his mouth and looking up at her expectantly.

 

[Auntie Feekna]

"Hmph. Figures," Feekna grumbled. That might have explained why Mertha didn't seem very interested in the man or why Feekna was asking about him. Wasn't worth the trouble of tormenting or driving off, or he was just wily enough to keep out of her way. There were so many old dangerous things in those woods, another one was hardly worth noting.

Following Joseph's example, she also set about making herself more comfortable. It was far less impressive of a transformation - more like shedding a second skin than growing a new one. She didn't lose pace as she shrugged off her glamor. Her elegant black dress withered and warped into a well-worn and tattered robe. She herself appeared to age dramatically from maiden to mature woman and finally into an ancient, white-haired old crone.

"As fit as a fiddle, as spry as a sprite!" she replied to his question with a toothy grin, taking a few skipping steps into the surrounding woods. "This way to Mertha's, then from there an old hidden path to the lake."

The massive trunks of arboreal ancients rose around them in deep and sacred silence, rough bark interwoven in patches of green, dark lacy branches bowed under the weight of their own needles. They made their way through the damp forest duff and ferns with little trouble, though it seemed that there was no path anywhere to be found.

Joseph Meier

 

[Joseph Meier]

Joseph picked his way through the underbrush with ease. He’d visited Volker’s territory many times before, and it always had an uneven quality about it. A wildness and darkness that even the brightest summers couldn’t fully embrace. Surely the sight of the same type of forest meant they were somewhere close? Knowing Klaus had fled into the trees around them, it couldn’t be too far. Klaus was impatient and impulsive, and likely seized the body quickly before the others could rally.

Joseph wasn’t at all afraid of the hag. He stayed close to her withered form, though as she promised she hurried her way through the woods without so much as a hitch in her step. Joseph shifted his brace in his mouth and followed. He only had one such drawback; a twisted paw where his foot should be.

Joseph wondered how far it was to the other hag’s home…and whether or not the old faerie had any nasty tricks waiting for them.

 

[Auntie Feekna]

Feekna remained quiet as they hiked into the shadowy woods, pausing only to pick up a fallen branch that was a good shape and sturdiness for a walking stick. It was no hexing stick, but it would do.

Several miles passed behind them in tree-shrouded dips and hills before she stopped suddenly with the walking stick held in front of her. It wasn't obvious where her filmy eyes were focused, but she pointed her stick to a spot beneath the fronds of a large fern. Nearly hidden beneath it was a pile of tiny animal bones laid out in a neat pattern.

"Careful steps, dearie. Mertha has a fondness for ensnaring things," she croaked.

In reality, they weren't very close to the camouflaged cave that Mertha called home, but the younger hag had a peculiar fascination with trapping anything that wandered into her demesne. Mortals, lesser fae - she had no preference. She just seemed to want to keep things in jars. Feekna found it actually quite surprising that Joseph's quarry hadn't fallen victim to any of her vile traps.

Feekna picked their path more carefully now, prodding suspicious piles of leaves and pushing aside underbrush that obscured the ground beneath them. Every now and again she would come across another pile of small bones and carefully side-step it by a few yards.

"There! The hidden path." she declared as they came down a steep hill covered in berry brambles and into a shallow earthen bowl encircled by chunks of granite. No physical path parted the misty understory, but there was a certain ethereal glow in the forest ahead, as if someone had carefully laid out an astral thread in the leaf litter and soil. It almost beckoned for them to follow.

Joseph Meier

 

[Joseph Meier]

Joseph picked his way carefully through the brush behind Feekna, watching as she pointed out a particular circle of animal bones. He sniffed at it, but made sure to leave a wide berth. Some fae liked to collect things, and he wasn’t looking forward to becoming the prized jewel on a hag’s shelves. He nodded thankfully to Feekna for pointing them out.

The further they walked, the more familiar the terrain became. Feekna paused, and pointed out a hidden path. Joseph carefully picked his way into it, grateful he’d used the form of the dog. He didn’t fancy his chances on rough terrain on two legs with liquor loosening up his joints. They walked a few miles more, heading deeper and deeper into the woods.

Finally, they broke into a small clearing. It was bathed in moss and sunlight, with a great willow tree watching over it. There was a small pond with fish and frogs that caught the sunlight, and a small stone cairn under the willow tree. Joseph trotted toward the cairn, and the plaque settled on the moss at its feet.

‘Brenn. Beloved of mine.’

The inscription was carved roughly with hand tools, simple, and to the point. Joseph laid his head on the cairn for a moment, and slowly shifted back into a man. He leaned against it to strap his brace back in, and dressed himself in clothes that had conspicuously appeared on the top of the cairn.

“We’re in his territory.” Joseph told Feekna grimly. “Keep close.”

 

[Auntie Feekna]

As Joseph took the time to return to his human form, dress and rest at what Feekna just saw as a pile of stones, she took a few moments to stretch her limbs and pop her joints. She eyed the pond with a faint hunger for frog-eye stew.

"Hm," she muttered in way of agreement.

The woods had grown darker, and somehow even quieter, than before. There was no sign of wildlife, no fae, no creatures aside from the frogs and fish in the pond. Just an afternoon breeze carrying the scents of pine and decomposing wood over the hollows and hills. Feekna found it a little unsettling in a way; a little too much like the mundane lands that lay outside of the faewilds. Something here had upset the order enough to drive the usual denizens afield.

"So this man you're looking for... this killer. You really think he's going to help you off your late wife?" she asked, saying the word killer with distaste. It was one thing to need to rid oneself of an enemy, or need to eat... but to kill just for killing's sake was making an unnecessary mess. From what little she'd overheard at Kitty's, it sounded like this one was all bloodlust and no finesse.

Joseph Meier

 

[Joseph Meier]

"No. Klaus was always in love with my wife." Joseph sighed heavily. "Klaus is the father of the man I seek, and him being in charge of the body worries me. It usually means something has happened, and Rheinhard is too weak to fight him off. Either that, or everyone has woken up again with me being so far away. Either way, we're bound to step into chaos. I don't suppose you have any experience soothing a bunch of angry souls?"

As they went around the edge of the clearing, Joseph spotted a small dirt pathway. That would lead to the house. There was a sense of quiet as Joseph walked, listening to the birds and watching the signs of small game paths. Rheinhard had chosen a good spot, somewhere deep and old where the herds of deer had forgotten about men and the rabbits had grown lazy. It was less than a mile from the cabin, but even so Joseph had to stop frequently to rest.

The cabin came into view as they entered another clearing. Beautifully wrought from the local pine and cedar trees, it was an exquisite labor of love. Even the roof tiles had carvings. Every elegant curve had been built with strength and practicality, but with a little taste. The front door was carved in sweeping fronds of lavender that would have taken weeks to carve, and a distinctive semi-circular door pull. Joseph stood on the road, looking up at the house. Smoke coming from the chimney, and lights inside.

"...I didn't just bring you here to get you to show me to an old friend." Joseph said quietly, looking over at Feekna. "I need people to help me, if I'm going to kill Fell. He's just a piece of the puzzle, as are you...I hope. I can pay you well, in secrets, gold, whatever you want. But I can't do this alone, and I don't know how much I can rely on him."

 

[Auntie Feekna]

Feekna's forehead wrinkles crumpled like a collapsing roof as she gave some concerned thought to what Joseph was saying.

"Souls? Probably not in the way you're thinking, dearie." No, she didn't suppose he meant anything to do with containing them. That didn't typically have the effect of soothing them, though it could be a way of subduing them if they got a little too frisky for their own good. But that also required that she have a contract with them, or have caught them fairly. She was certain this possessed, murderous creature Joseph was speaking about was not interested in bargains.

A charming cabin seemed to pop out of the woods like a pop-up picture in a children's fairy tale book. It was obviously mortal in design; crafted to contain the imagery of nature while also subtly declaring its dominance over it. That such a thing had not become the spite of some vengeful treant or haughty nymph was quite surprising.

She shot Joseph a scrutinizing look. "T'was our deal that I would lead you to this man. Anything beyond that is outside of our little agreement.

"Much as I'd like to see some court jesters squirm, I don't like to get blood under my nails," she admitted, inspecting her long, yellowed nails. "What this old lady sees and hears may be on the table. Maybe a friendly hex here, a vial of poison there, some good advice... but Auntie leaves the murder and mayhem to the young and mad."

Joseph Meier