Chapter 4: The Dinner

     The dining hall at LaDuce Manor evinced only a shadow of its former glory. It was spacious; with a high ceiling and a large stained-glass window at one end depicting some long-forgotten battle in which some equally long-forgotten ancestor of the LaDuce's had been victorious. Clearly Luna was given credit for his success, as the moon goddess herself was depicted smiling down on the scene from a higher window in the shape of a triangle with its point downward. The wallpaper was faded, as were the rugs and even the tablecloths. The moulding was chipped in places, and the room had an overall musty feel about it. A large fireplace sat empty on either side of the long table which dominated the center of the room. Above one of the fireplaces – the one on the east wall – was a portrait of a dark-hared man with bright blue eyes. He appeared to be just shy of his middle years. He wore a military uniform, as people in such portraits so often do. In a chair before him sat a girl with curly blonde locks and a serious look on her face. Above the other fireplace was a portrait of a young woman sitting in a chair that matched the one in the other portrait. Standing to either side of her were two small children: Jens and Jessa at a younger age. The painter of the portrait had caught their delicate features perfectly in the work.

     The guests were shown into the hall by Rikard, who had changed into an ill-fitting coat and tails. He helped Elinge with her chair, and motioned the men to sit.

     "Drinks will be served," he said. "And the Countess will be with you shortly." He bowed and exited through one of the side doors.

     A few moments later Nansi entered with a tray of fruits and cheeses, followed by Rikard, who bore a bottle of chilled wine. Each of the guests was served, and they both exited once again.

     "I believe you were going to finish telling us of the time you hunted the chimaeras." Elinge began, "But we arrived at the manor before you could finish. Would you mind continuing, Owerst?"

     "Oh yes, that. Of course, dear lady, though it may not be the best topic of conversation just before dinner." Aerik Nandliss looked at the other guests. "However, if no one else minds?"

     The others nodded their consent and made agreeable noises, so Nandliss continued.

     "Of course, of course. As I said, we had tracked the beast out of the forest, through the scrub-lands and into a dry sort of country. Not quite a desert, you see."

     Owerst Aerik Nandless was one of those men who loves to hear the sound of his own voice. There was no topic too big nor too small for him to have formed an opinion, and he would gladly explain that opinion to anyone who would give him half a chance. He also loved to recount tales of his many exploits – especially those involving hunting or military action. He had served in the Palonian Rangers, a branch of the army that specialized in scouting unknown territories and in operations behind enemy lines. He'd reached the rank of Owerst  and was very proud of his numerous medals, especially the Traveler's Cross, which he'd received from King Jacke-Petrer Himself. Since then, he had mounted numerous hunting expeditions – mostly for ferocious or legendary creatures.

      He continued, "The terrain was all rocky, which made tracking somewhat difficult, but I was determined. Such a large beast as a chimaera shouldn't hide easily, you see, but it's coloring was close to that of the terrain, and they have semi-magical properties, as I'm sure you know."

     Elinge seemed captivated by his every word. The frail man in the black and blue robes maintained his silence, but listened politely. Mr. Insel seemed to be paying only half his attention. While he listened to the blustery old officer, he also studied the room – teasing out its history and its secrets.

     Owerst Nandliss rambled on, describing the methods used to track such a fantastical beast. He detailed the methods of looking at rocks to see which ones had been recently disturbed, and the uses of divining powders obtained from the far-away lands of Tik'kalli.

     "The creature knew we were on its trail. But it must have also known it could never lose us. We had been tracking it for three days, after all. Finally, it must have grown tired of flight, and found itself a position from which it could most ably defend itself. It had chosen a little cavern of sorts, with the only approach through a narrow defile that, at that time of day, allowed the sun to shine straight in our faces as we approached. We had a rather difficult decision to make: assault it head on, all but blinded by Sol's glare, or wait until he set, thus having to fight the beast in darkness. The way I saw it, there really was no choice. We naturally decided to ..."

     He was interrupted by the entrance of the Countess, who was accompanied by the servants, along with Jens and Jessa. The guests rose at her entrance, and Rikard helped her seat herself at the head of the table, with the windows behind her. The twins seated themselves on the other side of the guests, opposite one another: Jessa next to Mr. Insel, and Jens next to the Owerst. Nearest to the Countess were Elinge and the Dreamer.

     "My apologies for not welcoming you in person earlier," said the Countess. "My health isn't what it used to be, and sometimes I need a little rest in the afternoons."

     "No apology required, Madam Countess," replied Owerst Nandliss. "I believe I speak for all of us when I say that It is a considerable honor merely to be invited to your great and storied home." The others murmured agreement and bowed.

     "My home isn't as honorable as it once was, I'm afraid, so we needn't stand on such ceremony." The Countess motioned to their chairs. "Please do sit, all of you."

     Once everyone was seated, Nansi left for the kitchen again, while Rikard filled the Countess's wine glass before following her. The Countess took a sip and studied her guests. Countess Amelia LaDuce was educated in the ways of proper courtly behavior, but at her advanced age she had little patience for it.

     She was a tall woman and possessed a regal bearing. Her hair was as white as snow, and her face was wrinkled, but fair. Her azure eyes possessed a sharpness about them that might be mistaken for coldness, but was actually a sign of her undeteriorated mental faculties. She wore a grey silk gown – somewhat formal, but not elaborately so – with a white lace shawl and pearl buttons.

     "Thank you all for being here. I trust your journey went well. Are your rooms agreeable?"

     "Yes, quite well, Madam." Nandliss, naturally, was the first to speak. "Your coach was quite comfortable, and the accommodations are more than pleasant. Thank you for your hospitality."

     "I'm very glad to hear that, Owerst Nandliss." She turned to Elinge and Mr. Insel. "And yours?"

     Elinge replied with a simple Yes, Ma'am and Mr. Insel only nodded.

     "And you, Master Trammer?"

     The Dreamer nodded to the Countess. "Yes. The journey went well, and the room will suffice."

     Nansi and Rikard returned with a large tureen of wild mushroom soup. They began serving the guests, who made small talk. Through the first courses of the meal the Countess and her guests discussed mostly pleasant, light topics; such as the weather or the year's fashions in Ayrst. The twins ate silently.

     Mr. Insel broke the chatter with a question. "I noticed that there were workmen cutting and burning many of the trees on your estate. Is there any particular reason for clearing so much land now?"

     "Yes, there is," replied the Countess. "But we'll discuss that later."

     After the main course of roast lamb with vegetables was over, came the Rivvener cream & peach pudding. While the dessert was being served, the Countess got down to business.

     "No doubt, you are all wondering why I've invited you here. Yours were not the only letters I sent, but among those that replied, you were the four I chose. Before I get to the reason, I'd like to know what you all know of my late husband's history." She nodded towards the portrait above the eastern fireplace.

     Without hesitation, Owerst Nandliss put forth his knowledge.  "I know Count Viktor LaDuce was born some twenty years before our Good King Jak. You and he were married in 758. You bore him a daughter, Elinora, who Passed into The Dream at a young age, but you had no other children."

     Seeing the Countess wince at the mention of her late daughter's name, Nandliss paused. "I apologize to m'lady if I brought up an unpleasant memory there. It was a well-known tragedy at the time – some fourteen years ago, I believe?"

     "Thirteen years ago last month. Please, do continue."

     "He was a man of some renown even before the Orgish rebellion. It was during the Battle at the Willow Wood of 768 that he was lost defending this very homestead. He was granted the Blue Dragon for his valor, though it was granted posthumously. By all accounts he'd lived the same way as he Passed: an honorable man."

     "That is what is commonly known, yes." The Countess nodded to Nandliss. "What few know is what a devoted and loving husband he was. So devoted, in fact, that though he has Passed into The Dream, some part of him as remained. He watches over his ancestral home. He still watches over me. And sometimes he still speaks to me from The Dream."

     At this, the Dreamer opened his eyes wider in surprise. "Surely, Countess, you know what you speak could be construed as heresy?"

     "Yes, I know, but there is no Hierophant here to scold me. Surely you have no interest in running to the Temple?" She laughed. "Though I've little doubt they'd love to hear the tale."

     "Now, back to the point at hand," she continued. "I believe my deep connections with my dear departed Viktor have given me a waking connection to the Dream." She motioned the Dreamer for silence. "Patience, Master Trammer. You will be heard, but as you've no doubt guessed your presence here is especially important."

     "You see, it was in the week before the anniversary of Elinora's accident that I had a dream. A  dream which involved Viktor, Elinora and that accursed forest. First, I should tell you of the nature of Elinora's Passing."

Chapter 3: The Watchman

     Captain Hambelton Frayg of the City Watch of Ayrst, was an even-tempered man on an ordinary day, but today he felt a little grouchy. First off, he hadn't slept well the night before, and secondly, he hadn't had his usual morning kaffea drink. So when the page had come around that morning to inform him that he was needed at the Watch House immediately, he wasn't in the best of moods. When he discovered that the reason he was needed was because someone had been killed at an inn overnight he was in a mood to chew rocks
       Just what I need, he thought, to look at a stinking corpse before I've even had breakfast. When duty called, however, he tucked his breeches into his boots, grabbed his coat and left.

        Murders weren't common in Ayrst, but every so often some poor fool found himself in the wrong alley of a night, and ran into someone who wasn't polite about asking for a handout. It was nearly impossible to find the murderers in those cases as the alleys were always full of people who hadn't seen a thing that wasn't at the bottom of a bottle or mug. Once in a while, if you did just the right favor for the right person, answers could be had. Captain Frayg knew that some answers could be found through divination, but it was a rare case in which the Temple would take enough of an interest to help out the City Watch. They had more important concerns: like finding heretics.

       As he approached the Watch House Frayg pulled out a clay pipe and thumbed its bowl full of tobacco. He pulled a bit of tinder out of the fire in front of the House to light his pipe. If he couldn't have breakfast, at least he could have a good smoke before going to the crime scene.

        "There you are," said Commander Brylle as he entered. "There's a real mess down at the Carter's Rest. You seem to have a knack for getting information when it's needed, so I thought it best to put you on this."

        Ham nodded to his commanding officer through the cloud of smoke that began to writhe around him. He was sitting on the edge of the long counter that stood just inside the doorway with a sour expression on his face.

        "Yeah, sure. You always give me the weird ones."

        "This one's a little weirder than even you're used to, Ham."

        "Oh? How's that, then?"

        "I think you should form your own opinions at the scene. Then we'll talk."

        Frayg shrugged. "All right. I guess I'm wasting time here, then." He nodded to Commander Brylle then turned on his heel and headed for the Carter's Rest. Yeah, I always get the weird ones.

        The Carter's Rest Inn was a large three-story affair. Its common room featured a long bar, two enormous fireplaces and a spacious gallery above. There was also a small raised platform for musicians or other performers to entertain the inn's guests. Before the platform was an open area which was commonly used as a dance floor.

        Captain Frayg walked up to the bar where a man was putting a tap into a fresh keg of ale. The man was Jaik Welman. He was a large man, and a bit rotund. His graying hair was mostly missing at the top, but his clean-shaven face was smooth for his age, which was about forty. He wore a smock over his tunic and leggings – nothing fancy, but well-made.

        Frayg sat on a stool and waited for the inn keeper to finish.

        "How are you doin', Ham? Am I ever glad to see you! Can I have Ena get you anything?"

        "Thanks, Jaik. I could do with some breakfast. Before that, though ... I hear one of your patrons had an accident?"

        "Weren't no accident. That boy was ..." he lowered his voice before continuing, "murdered – plain and simple. Never seen anyone have an accident like that."

        "Maybe I'd better have a look. Where is he?"

        "Up on the third floor. Room nineteen. One of your guards is already up there."

        "Thanks. I'll be back in a few minutes. I'll eat whatever you've got left over from last night – I'm not picky." He stood up and walked up the two flights of stairs, stopping to empty out his pipe and then put it in his pocket. Brilliant light shone through an open window at the end of the hall. The cold morning breeze carried the acrid smell of blood even from out here. Must have been pretty bad. A guard stood outside the door of room nineteen. He looked pale and was covering his face with a bar towel.

        "Been here long, son?"

        "About an hour, Captain. The smell seems to be getting worse." The guard winced.

        "How about that. This thing locked, or can I go on in?"

        The guard opened the door for him, holding his nose and taking care not to actually look into the room. As soon as Frayg entered he could see why: there was blood splattered all over the walls. The room contained a dressing-stand with an oval-shaped mirror which was cracked, a wash table with a basin – the pitcher was on the floor, in pieces – a table with two chairs, one of which was on its side, and a large bed. The wide double windows here were open, too, for a mercy. The smell was bad enough without it having been closed up all morning. 

        In the bed lay the body of a young man. His tunic was torn open and there were large gashes on his torso. His wrists were bound to the posts with thin, strong rope – silk, from the look of it. He had been young: only the slightest hint of a beard was visible on his chin. His face was contorted – a rictus of fear frozen on it in death. But the most obviously gruesome detail was in the eyes, or rather the absence thereof.

        Frayg approached the body with some hesitation. He pulled his coat up over his nose and mouth. Clearly someone had ripped the eyes right out of this young man's head. On closer examination, he realized that it was more than that. The skull appeared to have been completely emptied: the brain was gone.

        Frayg reached into his coat pocket for his pipe. Grimacing at the very thought of what he was doing, he held the still-warm bowl of the clay pipe between his thumb and forefinger and poked the stem into an empty eye socket. Sure enough, there was nothing inside the dark recess of the skull. He then put the pipestem into the mouth. It made an audible click when it hit the teeth, but he was able to wedge it in and pry the mouth open. The tongue was still there.

        Whoever did this was only interested in the eyes and brain. He shuddered.

        Frayg stood up and addressed the guard. "Did anyone else enter the room before I got here?"

        "Yes, sir. There was the maid who came in to clean up – she was the one who found the body. And then I was the first to arrive and I took a look around. Aside from the ... the eyes ... it looks to be a robbery."

        "I suppose it does. The boy's purse is missing. It appears to have been torn off his belt. Has anyone looked out the window?"

        "No sir. I remembered the time we found that old man and how you told us we shouldn't disturb things at a crime scene. After I saw the state of the body, I immediately sent to the Watch House."

        "Good man. That was for the best."

        Frayg walked over to the window. There was a small balcony outside, just as with all the nicer rooms at the Carter's Rest. He must have had a good bit of coin to rent one of these. Gods, I hope he wasn't some lordling – we'll never hear the end of it. There was no sign of forced entry: no splintering of the window frame or broken glass. The balcony was empty apart from two rocking chairs.

        "Does anyone know who he was?"

        "No sir. I asked the proprietors, and the girl who found him was too hysterical to talk. Mistress Welman took her downstairs to calm her down."

        "I'll need to speak with her later. And with Jaik and Ena. I suppose there's little chance anyone remembers seeing the boy, or anyone with him." He opened the drawers of the dressing table one by one. They were all empty.

        "I didn't have a chance to ask many questions, sir. I thought it would be best if I guarded the room from any tampering. The inn was mostly empty when I arrived."

        Frayg noted that the wash basin was dry, as was the place where the pitcher had broken on the floor. He didn't even have time to call for water to wash.

        "Well, I need to go speak with the Welmans and the girl. Will you be all right here for another hour or so? I'll get them to send someone up here to clean the place up and get you some relief."

        "It would be a mercy, sir."

        Frayg patted the guard on the shoulder reassuringly. Then he headed for the stairs.

        Jaik Welman, having finished preparing his kegs for the upcoming night, was wiping his bar down. He paused and looked up at Frayg as he came down the gallery stairs. He wore a concerned look.

        "So what happened up there?"

        "Looks like a robbery. The young man's purse was stolen. He didn't seem to have any other belongings, but those may have been taken as well. Whoever did it was particularly brutal about it: there's blood everywhere. It'll take some time to clean it up."

        "Your guard wouldn't let us. He said you'd want to see the room as it was."

        "He was right. Sorry to make you wait, Jaik."

        "Can we clean it up now, then?"

        "Well, I'll have to send some men around to collect the body, but once they've done their job, you can clean it up. I don't expect you'll be able to let that room for a while – cleaning it's going to be a real job of work."

        "Not many people staying most nights anyway. At least they won't until the Changeling Festival starts proper."

        Frayg nodded. "Another thing ... I'd like to speak to the girl who found the body."

        "Oh, poor Tania. We sent her home to her ma."

        "I was afraid of that."

        "I can send someone for her. Might be one of the other girls knows where she lives."

        "I'll be back after lunchtime. If you could have her here then, I'd appreciate it. Oh, and Jaik – I'll need to ask you and Ena a few questions then, too."

        "You aren't staying for breakfast?"

        "Give Ena my apologies, but for some reason I don't have much of an appetite any more," he told Jaik. Besides ... right now I have to go buy a new pipe.

Chapter 2: The Manor

        The LaDuce manor was an imposing building. Manor homes are frequently built that way, and in that sense it typified its purpose. It was large, made of stone, possessed numerous windows and a complex roof with peaks and towers, and it sat in the middle of a grand estate. Everything about its design bespoke power.

        What was unusual about it was its state of decay. Such homes were usually well-kept, but the LaDuce Manor had certainly seen better days. The other thing that might make an observer take note was the amount of noise and smoke that issued from behind the home.

        A black-laquered carriage with the insignia of the LaDuce family – a pair of waxing crescent moons with the one to the right side a bit larger than the other – shone silvery on the doors on either side. Behind the carriage came a plain wooden cargo wagon. They pulled to the front of the manor house, where a servant awaited their arrival.

        The servant was a tall man with slightly-ruffled black hair. He stooped slightly – the result of years of physical labor around the manor. He also had pale blue eyes and a distinctive hawk-like nose, which made him look serious, even when he wasn't. He was one of the two full-time servants still working at the LaDuce Estates, where dozens had worked in the past. He wore a threadbare black coat, emblazoned across the breast with the same double crescents as the carriage. He was known simply as Rikard.
        The driver stopped the carriage in front of where Rikard stood. The footman jumped down and handed Rikard several envelopes. He then turned and opened the door for the passengers, as Rikard perused the addressing on each of them.

        First out of the carriage came a very large, muscular man who looked uncomfortable in the finery he wore. Discernibly unaccustomed to the clothing of the upper classes: he was dressed in a formal shirt with a blue cravat and black jacket. His piercing blue eyes looked about him quickly, as if he expected physical violence at any moment, even here in this presumably peaceful setting. He also had the crooked nose of a man for whom this expectation had been learned through brutal experience.

        Next came a woman with flaming red hair. She was also dressed well, but seemed quite comfortably so. She wore a green and white garden dress with a matching bonnet and parasol. Her features were fine, but her nose was perhaps slightly oversized. Her eyes seemed to match those of the man who had preceded her, in that they were blue, and seemed to look for danger where none should be found. She accepted the footman's hand as she exited the carriage, but wore a small frown on her face as she did so.

        The third passenger was a shorter man with hair even blacker than Rikard's. He wore a cloak that faded from a pale blue at the bottom to to a darker blue in the middle and then black around the chest. It was embroidered with stars around the shoulders. He wore dark make-up around his grey eyes and he was very thin and pale. He looked unhealthy and in need of rest.

        The final passenger was a burly man with auburn hair and a long beard which were beginning to turn white with age. He was of average height, and wore a dark-brown traveling suit, with a proper tie. His dark brown eyes seemed to measure everything around him in a glance, and he carried himself with the upright bearing of a military officer.

        The footman turned again, and stepped towards Rikard. "Your Mistress's guests, sir."

        "Thank you," replied Rikard. He then addressed himself to the guests, bowing slightly. "Manservant Rikard, at your service. The Countess will greet you in the dining room, after you've been allowed to freshen up from your journey."

        Each of the male guests handed Rikard their card, except for the large muscular man, who handed him two cards: his own, and the lady's.

        "Thank you good sirs; ma'am." Rikard bowed to each of them. "If you'd please follow me?" He then led the small group to the top of the short stone stair where the footman, who had gone ahead, opened one of the doors for them.

        They entered a large foyer with a broad staircase that swept up from the center of the room to a balcony above. Rikard led them to the left of the stairs and down a hall, where there was another stairway which led to the upper west wing of the manor. The upper hallway was long and covered with faded floral wallpaper above a tarnished baseboard. Doors lined either side at regular intervals, with a large set of double doors at the far end, where another hall ran perpendicular to the one they were in.

        Each of the guests was shown to his or her room. Soon after, the wagon's team brought up all their trunks and other belongings.

        From around the corner at the end of the hall Jessa watched the arrival of the guests with great interest. It had been nearly ten years since they'd had guests at LaDuce Manor. That one must be Master Nandless, she thought to herself as she spied the burly man in the brown suit. Stories of his exploits, both in war and in hunting, were known far and wide. I wonder who the woman is. The sallow-looking fellow must be the Dreamer. That leaves the large one as the Lady's bodyguard, probably. He certainly doesn't look or act like a servant would.

        Jessa turned quickly and ran up the north hall to find her brother Jens. Where is that boy? She found him in the kitchen with Nansi, who was scolding him and immediately included Jessa in her reproach.

        "Where have you been, young lady?" Nansi squinted one eye at Jessa suspiciously. "Spying on the guests, I'd wager."

        Jessa lowered her head. "No I wasn't!"

        "You're lying girl, and don't think I don't know it when you do!"

        "No, I'm not! And I'm no girl. We'll be twenty-three this year. Just because Jens and I are small for our age doesn't make us children."

        Nansi arched her eyebrow at Jessa. "So you say, girl, but it's not size as makes you grown up. It's how you act. And right now you're acting like a girl. Stop your pouting and help your old Nansi. We've guests, as you well know, and I'll need a bit of help in treating them rightly."

        Jessa and Jens were small in stature, but both evinced all the traits of being adults. In just the last year Jens had grown a couple of inches. He was also more muscular, and had finally begun growing a bit of wispy blonde hair on his chin. Jessa had been late in beginning her menses – not until she was twenty, in fact – but seemed to have blossomed into full womanhood in just a year afterwards. In fact, they both appeared to be full-grown adults, but scaled down.

        Jens was only about Five feet and maybe three inches tall, where Jessa was only a hair higher than five feet. They shared most traits in common: honey-blonde hair, large green eyes, narrow and slightly pointed noses. They were also of slight build, even for their small stature.

        Nansi handed a large pitcher of water to each of them, and put some towels over their arms. "You need to get these up to our guests quickly. They'll be wanting to wash the road off of them. I expect you know where the Lady's room is, Jessa. You serve her first. Jens can go to any of the other three rooms, but you'd best both come back right quick for to serve the other two."

        Jens began, "But Nansi, we're no servants!  You can't tell us-"

        Nansi cut him off with a glare. "Servant or no, these are the guests of the Countess! Now look sharp, and no more of your tongue!"

        The pair of them hustled out of the kitchen, Jessa leading the way. She led her brother to the back hall and up the staircase. She pointed Jens to the door of the room with the Dreamer in it. Priests gave her the creeps. Let Jens deal with him! Then she went on to the Lady's room.

        At first she thought she'd knocked on the wrong door, as the large man opened it. Jessa hesitated.

        "Come in," came the woman's voice from inside. Jessa looked past the man and saw her standing near the back windows. She turned to Jessa and motioned her to come inside. "Mr. Insel may look like a beast, but I assure you he has the heart of a kitten."

        Mr. Insel gave her a smile that was missing a few teeth, and stepped aside. Jessa bowed her head briefly and entered the room. She then went to the washbasin and poured in half the contents of the pitcher. She sat the pitcher to the left of the basin, and the towels to the right side, all the while watching the two guests in the mirror in front of her.

        Jessa turned towards the woman and curtsied. "I'm Jessa. And to whom do I have the pleasure of addressing myself?"

        The woman suppressed a small smile. "My name's Elinge. Elinge Froske. And I see if you have any training it's as something other than a maid."

        Jessa blushed. "Apologies, Ma'am. I'm afraid I don't. It was wrong of me to introduce myself. Please forgive me."

        "It's quite all right. I don't expect you've received very many guests out here since the Count Passed into The Dream."

        "No, Ma'am. None that I can remember since I was ten. That was for Elinora's Passing. It seems we only have guests when something sad happens." She tilted her head to one side. "Has something sad happened again? Is that why you're here?"

        "Well, the impudence of your questioning a guest aside, I'm afraid I do not know." Elinge winked at Jessa. "My presence was requested by the Countess, but no explanation was forthcoming. Have you any ideas as to why the Countess would invite me or any of the others here?"

        "No, Miss. I have no idea. I expect she'll tell us at dinner. Did you all receive the same kind of request?"

        "Us, you say? Interesting. So you'll be dining with us, then? I suspected you were something other than a servant."

        "We usually do dine together. It's one of the rules."

        There was a knock at the door. Mr. Insel opened it to reveal Jens standing there with another pitcher of water.

        "Jessa," he began. "Nansi wants you back downstairs. Now."

        Jessa stiffened, and addressed Elinge more formally. "If you'll excuse me, Ma'am. Will there be anything else?"

        "No, Jessa. You may go."

        Jessa all but ran out of the room. Mr. Insel closed it behind her.

        "Just like you to leave me all the work, Jessa," complained Jens.

        "I'm sorry. She kept asking me questions."

        "Uh-huh."

        After another brief lecture by Nansi, Jess came back up with another pitcher and set of towels.  She left them in Mr. Insel's room, which was unoccupied for the moment. She then went to clean herself up for dinner.

Chapter 1: The Eyes

       The Patrons of the Carter's Rest Inn were in high spirits tonight, and Nodge Prayner was no exception. The music was loud, the girls were dancing and Nodge had just been paid.

        Mistress Welman and her maids were serving up drinks as fast as Jaik could pull them. It was always like this just before the start of the Changeling Festival. People were tired of working all summer and worried about the coming winter, and trying to find some time to enjoy their lives in between.

        Nodge had already had a few ales more than he normally would have, but he was determined to make the best of the night. This was going to be his last night of freedom for some time, as he'd gone down to the docks yesterday and joined the Palonian Navy. He would be assigned to a ship tomorrow, and gone the day after that: sailing the seas and seeing what the world had to offer.

        Nodge's parents, Novril and Ella Prayner, were unhappy about this decision, but he'd made up his mind. He knew was never going to be a rich man, so this was his best chance of seeing the world. Besides, the pay was good, and the opportunities to gain status were better in the military than if he stayed and worked in his father's bakery.

        Nodge tried to explain his reasons to his father, but Novril took the decision as an insult to himself and his profession. His reaction had been to become angry and shout at Nodge a lot, while Ella simply cried. 

        "Do you see what you're doin' to your mother?" His face grew redder moment by moment, as he pointed at Ella, who sat at the table weeping with her face buried in her hands. "She don't want her idiot son gettin' himself killed on account o' some bickerin' 'tween lords or somesuch! And all you'll be is the smallest pawn in their bloody games. How can you not see that?"

        "But, Dad, It's not -" Nodge tried to respond. His father was in no mood to listen, though.

        "My own dad was a baker as was my granddad. It's what's kept us fed an' with a roof over our heads. We may not be rich, but we're better off than most and you've never wanted for anything! How can you just walk away like that? How can you throw your own life and your family, and all our work away like that? You think your better'n me and your granddad, is that it? You're too good for the life we've struggled to build for you and your sister?"

        "No dad, of course not. But I -"

        "Shut your mouth, you wastrel. Spend all your time down the taverns drinkin' and whorin' and -" It was at that point that Ella's crying became a loud wailing.

        "Is that what he wants? That why he's runnin' off like this?" She was hysterical. "I thought he was a good boy! But, now I find he's runnin' off to find loose women in strange ports. Is that what this is all about?" She wailed again and fled up the stairs.

        Novril started in again. "That's it. You're killin' your ma. Get OUT!  Get out of our house and I never wanna see your ungrateful face again!" Novril all but picked Nodge up and bodily threw him out into the street.

        Nodge shuddered at the memory, and took another huge gulp from his mug of ale. It was their eyes that had disturbed him most. His mother's had flowed freely, puffy and red. His father's had gleamed like hardened steel – full of anger and betrayal. He never wanted to see eyes like that again.

        What do they know, anyway? They've never been anywhere or done anything but bake loaves and sweets all day. That was fine, as far as it went, and maybe someday he'd settle down to a steady business like that himself. But before that day came, Nodge wanted to explore – to see what opportunities lay over the horizon ... and if he fell into the arms of a comely lass or two along the way, what was the harm in that?

        As it happened there was a lovely girl, dark of hair and eye, who'd been giving him quick smiles all night. Perhaps it was time to introduce himself. Besides, if things didn't go well, it's not like he'd be in Ayrst much longer anyway. He drained the last bit of courage from his mug, and strolled confidently – or as confidently as a young man who drew his courage from a cup could – up to the woman sitting in the corner.

        "Hello, ma'am," he began as he bowed. "My name's Nodge, and I couldn't help but notice – even from across the room – that you have the most lovely and mysterious eyes." She offered her hand, and he took it, bowing. "Would you be so kind as to allow me a dance?"

        She blushed slightly and stood. She gave him a small curtsy. "Gladly," was all she said, and then they were dancing.

        She moved gracefully, and she wasn't shy about holding him close. They danced through two numbers before she asked him for a drink.

        He waved at the nearest serving girl and motioned for two fresh mugs of ale. They sat together on a bench against the back wall of the common room, beneath the loft above, where shadows danced darkly in the light of the fireplace.

        "Thank you for the dance," Nodge said. He was slightly out of breath. "Where did you learn to dance so well?"

        "Oh, here and there," she replied. "I've had a little practice. You dance rather well yourself." She gave him a warm smile.

        Nodge blushed. "Oh, but nothing like you, umm ... miss?"

        "Please forgive me," she said. "I'm Lily." She once again offered her hand.

        "I'm very pleased to finally meet you, Lily. A lovely name for a lovely girl."

        The serving girl returned with their mugs and hurried on. Nodge took a sip of his.

        "Oh, I'm so sorry," began Lily. "I had hoped for some red wine." She looked at Nodge with a hopeful expression.

        "Anything for you, m'lady. I'll take this back."

        "No, no. Just keep it for later, after we dance some more, you're going to be thirsty." She winked at him.

        Nodge stood and bowed to her. "I'll be right back with your wine. Then I'll join you for a drink and another dance."

        "I'll guard these with my life." She laughed as she motioned to the two mugs of ale that sat on the bench.

        A few moments later, Nodge returned with a pair of full wine glasses. "If I'm to drink two more mugs of ale, surely you'll be thirsty enough for another glass of wine."

        Lily stood, took the two glasses from him, drained one in a single gulp, and sat both of them next to his two mugs. She took his hand and pulled him back onto the dance floor. She pulled him closer and looked up at him. He could get lost in those dark eyes ... her smile ... her smell. They danced for what seemed like eternity. 

        Finally, he had to beg off for a moment's rest. The inn wasn't as crowded as it had been, so their seats were still available, and their mugs and glasses stood undisturbed. Nodge sat and took a big gulp, while Lily put her arms around his neck and sat in his lap. She nuzzled against his neck, giggling.

        "Aren't you tired?" He asked Lily.

        "Maybe a bit. What about you?"

        "Yes, but with you around, I think I could stay up 'til morning."

        She gave him a mischievous grin, and pulled herself a little closer. She whispered in his ear ... and the next thing he knew he was using the last of his coin to rent them a room upstairs for the night.

        Nodge couldn't believe his luck. Where had this girl been all his life? And why did he have to meet her tonight, right before he was to leave Ayrst for gods knew how long? He was determined to make the most of this night with her, at least.

        After the serving girl left them alone, Lily leaned against the door. She sat her still-undrunk glass of wine on the mirrored dressing-stand. Then she went to the window and opened it. The night air was cool but pleasant, as the curtains billowed in the breeze.

        "Put out the lamp," she said. "Then sit on the bed." Nodge didn't hesitate. 

        He could just make out her shape in the light of the moon as she unlaced her corset. She still danced in a strange way ... so fluidly. She seemed to bend in places a body shouldn't bend. Maybe it's just the drink, he thought to himself. I have had quite a bit.

        "Now close your eyes, and I'll give you a surprise."

        He did as he was told, and realized he could barely sit up. Did I really drink that much? He was suddenly afraid he would pass out. He fell backwards on the bed.

        Nodge heard a noise at the window. He opened his eyes, but all he could see was the ceiling spinning above him in the pale light reflected off the mirror. He struggled to sit up before he heard Lily's voice in his ear.

        "Be still my sweet. It will all be over soon." That seemed a strange thing to say. Wait. Who's voice was that?

        "Lillleee ..." He could barely slur out her name. "Wha'sh happening? Ish shomeone in here wit' ush?"

        He finally managed to sit up. From the window approached a bulky figure. It was something inhuman – unlike anything he'd ever seen before – a nightmare made shadowy reality. He could barely make out anything in the darkness, but it had a large, bulbous head with a long snout ringed with small sharp teeth that glistened in the moonlight.

        But it was at the eyes that he couldn't stop staring: or rather, it was where the eyes should have been. In their place were a pair of long tentacles, reaching out towards his own face. What in all the hells is that?

        The voice continued, "Don't be frightened. You'll be in a better place soon." He could almost feel the lips against his ear, but he couldn't turn his head. He couldn't look away from the monstrosity before him. 

        The creature moved closer and leaned over him. Nodge felt hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down onto the bed. Then he felt his arms being pulled over his head, and a tightness around his wrists. He was powerless to resist. The creature was on him ... he could feel its weight, holding him down while the world was spinning. I'm going to be sick, he thought.

        "No," came yet another voice, seemingly from inside his own head. "You're going to die."

        He could hear screaming from somewhere. That's me. I'm the one screaming. Why does it sound so far away?

        Screaming, however distant, was the last thing Nodge Prayner ever heard.