Child’s Play

The Not So Bitsy Spider…

I have no footsteps here. I’m moving, but I have no imperfection to the dreamscape to measure relative speed by. There is nothing to stimulate the senses. It’s quite disorienting. I am surrounded by a soft white glow. I don’t even have a shadow beneath me. I’m half expecting THX1138 to run past me at any moment. I make the mechanics of movement for a while longer. I have no idea if I moved an inch, a meter, or a lightyear. Or even if I moved at all.

Dejected, I sit down. I had meant to sit cross-legged, because there had to be something under my feet for me to stand on. Right? I notice my legs are actually dangling off an edged surface. Like I had sat on a white table overlooking a white floor. Or a white cliff rising over a white chasm. I couldn’t tell the difference.

I hear a sudden rush of noise. The first I’ve heard since opening my eyes here. Something like a massive stampede is rushing up behind me. I turn to see what’s coming and a fierce wind blows in my face, causing me to close my eyes. I sense something dense passing over me, passing beside me, passing through me. The sound quickly fades and the wind ceases. I open my eyes to see what had gone before, but there is only a distant shadow far off in the distance. A brightening smudge against the white of the horizon that is quickly erased. The horizon disappears into a sea of white.

I’m alone again.

Something tickles my bare arm. Something fuzzy with bristles. I look down, to see a giant dark segmented leg leaning against my hand and arm. Swallowing my fear, I slowly start to look up the leg. I have an understanding that what I am looking at is not as darkly hued as it appears. My eyes, having adjusted to the continual white of the dreamscape, is interpreting any color other than white, as black. I find the first joint of the leg. It is at my shoulder. Another bristled leg comes over my other shoulder with a gentle embrace. It slowly turns me to face the body of this creature.

Eight eyes stare unblinkingly at me. It is hiding its fangs from me, but as its body is slightly higher than my head, I can still see the fangs are large enough to be dangerous. Interestingly, they are relatively small. Instead of panicking, I focus on the size of the fangs, and compare it to the size of the spider’s body. The ratio dances in my head, keeping me from surrendering to mammalian fear.

“You’re a tarantula?” Three legs embrace me and pull me close. I don’t feel threatened. Somehow, I know I’m merely being hugged. The gesture was saying, “You recognize me! Hooray!”, and wasn’t menacing at all. I find myself genuinely laughing in response. “So, dear Ta-ran-tu-la, what brings you here with me today?” I had fun stretching out the syllables.

My eyes had readjusted to the tarantula’s markings. What I thought was dark brown and deepest black, was actually bright yellow, with red and brown highlights. I wanted to stroke the bristles on the body, but remembering that Waking World tarantulas used their body hair as a defensive weapon, I stopped myself. So I contented myself with stroking the legs instead. The immense spider tucked itself beside me in a sitting pose, and stretched two legs across my lap. It was clear, it was delighting in receiving the attention as much as I was delighting with stroking the strangely soft bristles.

No more communication was attempted. Just the peaceful abiding with each other, and the gentle softness of mutual touch.

I can dream I can fly…

Great. Just fucking great. The hotel ‘lost’ my reservation. There are no open rooms anywhere in the city of Birmingham, Alabama. Everything is booked. Even though I had called this morning to verify the reservation, somehow, in the six hours that passed between phone call and arrival, my reservation was ‘lost’. Not canceled. Not revoked. Not down-graded. Just outright ‘lost’. “We don’t even have a record of payment. I’m sorry. Are you sure you booked with us? I might be able to get you a room for the night, but you will have to pay a “good faith” fee until the room is made available.”

Aw, fuck no.

I call my credit card company, and put the service agent on speaker. The service agent verifies the charge on my account as being for the hotel, and is even able to pull up notes detailing just what room the charge was for, what date the room was reserved, and the confirmation that was made this morning. The hotel manager twitches and hems and haws, and all but calls the service agent a liar.

“Ms. Nox, are you at the hotel counter now?” “Yes, I am.”

“Ms. Nox, we’ve had problems with this hotel before, changing reservations and attempting to extort more funds from our clients. Are you in that situation now?” “Yes, I am.”

“We will be reversing the charge, Ms. Nox. I apologize, I am unable to force them to room you, and I can’t find another room available in the city. But you will not have this charge against you.” “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve slept in my car. Won’t be the last, I’m sure. Thank you.”

I hang up, and pick up my bag. The hotel manager is insisting that I pay for the reservation. Apparently the charge reversal was instantaneous. It was also the last straw for the credit card company, as they have just canceled ALL their pending reservations with this chain. The hotel has just lost a significant source of revenue.

With all the schadenfreude I was enjoying, I still had to find someplace to park and sleep for the night. My flight doesn’t leave until the next morning. I left the hotel, a little smug, a little worries, and hopped into the rented convertible. Driving around, I saw a lot that was set aside for over-night parking and carpools. Excellent. Just the perfect spot.

I pull in, get comfortable and settled, and put the seat back. A storm is moving in overnight. I can feel the humidity increasing. Good. Rain will mean I’ll sleep very well, thank you very much.

But instead of rain, I hear other vehicles. I sit up, and find I’m surrounded by several bright red cars and SUVs. Climbing out of the vehicles were several people, all in bright red jackets. Mostly women, mostly pissed, mostly ready to kick my ass. Aww, come on. I just want some sleep. They start nudging the vehicle and making undirected threats against intruders. I stay in my car, and just lay back down in the seat. This enrages them but for some reason, they can’t do more to my rented car than just gently nudge it.

I’d love to just turn over and ignore things, but I know this will escalate quickly if nothing is done. I don’t want to get out of the apparent safety of the car just yet. As much noise as the women are making, I know they are not in charge of this gaggle. From one of the SUVs, one of the few men step out. I note how the women (and one man) near him immediately defer to his presence and move out of his way. This must be the leader of this gang.

I roll down my window and address him directly. “Did I pick a bad spot to try and sleep?” The women are infuriated that I dare talk to him. His face registers a flash of surprise and a flash of mirth. He holds up his hand, instantly quieting the others. “Yea. You did.”

“Ah, my apologies. I didn’t know you were going to hold court here tonight. I’m stuck in town overnight, and there’s no place for me to sleep. Do you know where I could park for the night?” Some of the women mutter obscenities at me, but again, he silences them. “Yea, there is. But none near here. All the lots are spoken for, and I doubt you could pay the required fee.”

He tilts his head, his vivid red hair swinging from the action. I wonder about his identity, but he lacks the distinctive green eyes, and he doesn’t have the scent of smouldering fire. He studies me intently for a moment. I have no idea who he, or his tribe, is. “You’re really not from here, or you wouldn’t have parked here. Tell you what, I like you. I want no trouble between us. Let me show you a safer place to be tonight.” He opens the passenger door to his SUV. The implication was clear. I was to leave the safety of my car.

“I want no trouble between us, either. But you’ll understand if I’m wary, and reluctant to leave what has been placed in my care.” I patted the door of the rental car.

He laughs brightly. Completely out of character from the menacing horde lord that I sense him to be. “You’re not from around here, but you’re no child either, it seems. No harm will come to your goods. They shall be protected in your absence. But I insist, that you accompany me. I wish you no harm, and have no tricks. But if you would find safety, you must ride with me.” To remain would be to place myself counter to him and his tribe, it seems. Well then, I guess I have no choice.

I exit the car, locking it securely behind me. The gaggle of women are aggressive and taunting, but none attempt to lay a finger on me. Some of the older women dare to ask their leader why he is taking me someplace alone. He stares down those questioning, answering them with a brutal silence. He offers his hand. “As long as you are with me, no harm will come to you.” I note the thousands of loopholes that leap at me, but take him at his word. I place my hand in his, and feel a sudden deafening around me. I’ve been isolated from the environment.

He helps me into the high SUV, and leaps effortlessly into the drivers seat himself. Putting it in gear, he quickly drives out the lot onto the city streets. I swallow my urge to look behind me at my rental car for the last time.

He drives the main street as fast as main street traffic will allow. “Think you can learn an alternate route quickly?” I nod. “Good!” He quickly ducks into a side street, but too fast for me to learn the name. “This street is technically an alley, according to the maps. Which is why there is so little traffic on it. But the speed limit is the same as the main street, and it runs parallel almost the entire city. Think of it like running the shadows beside a forest path.” I nod as he speaks. At his last comparison, I wonder why he would make that kind of statement when we’re so far from anything rural.

He points out which areas to avoid, which areas to never go in, and the very few places where I would be able to pull over in an emergency. “But really, everything on this side of the river is pretty much bad news for you after sunset. We pass several signs that read: “BE AWARE: FLOODPRONE AREAS”. He sees I’ve noted the signs. “It floods if someone spills a glass of water.” That doesn’t sit well with me. The storm is closer, and there will be rain soon.

Finally, he is on the better side of town. “Any of these places will be okay for you until morning. And they are closer to the airport anyway, so you won’t have to fight the traffic we just dodged to get here.” Great! I won’t have a problem driving to these lots. Except for the threat of flooding. He reads the concern on my face clearly. “Just fly the car here. You’ll be alright.”

I almost give myself whiplash turning to face him. “Fly? The car?”

He starts laughing in deep rolls. Then he realizes I’m serious. “They didn’t tell you at the rental office? You have a flying car. They probably thought you were just another mundane. But I see you. I see you, clearly. You have a flying car, and the power to make it fly.” At my incredulous face, he takes pity on me. “Here. This SUV can fly. I’ll show you.”

“Grab the steering wheel like this, and you’ll see this symbol light up.” He places his hands at the 10 & 2 position. On the center of the wheel, just above the horn symbol, a faintly glowing symbol appeared. “Now, this symbol will only appear if you are able to make the car fly. If you can’t, then you’ll never see it.” I tell him I can see the symbol just fine, and describe it. “See, I knew you are more than you appear to be.”

“Now, place your will into that symbol and activate it. If you’ve done it right, the steering wheel will start to float back and forth, like a joystick.” There is a ‘ka-chunk’ sound from the engine compartment and the SUV starts to bounce gently. “Pull the wheel back, just a little bit to start rising.” He demonstrates and the SUV slowly rises a few inches. “The rest is like flying a plane.” He looks over at me and starts exploding into laughter again. I’m grinning like a little kid at a science fair, looking forward to doing this on my own.

He lowers the SUV and has me switch places. I’m now in the driver’s seat, and he is coaching me. I follow the steps he has given me, and soon I’m able to fly the SUV around with ease. A sudden peal of thunder brings me back to the urgency at hand. “I better get you back to your car. Your rental can fly in good weather, but it will take an SUV to fly in inclement weather.” I agree, land the SUV, and resume the role of passenger again.

As he flies me back to the car, I glance over at the main street and the alleyway alternative. Already both are inhibited by mild flooding and the backup is at least a mile long. “Oh, one more thing. When the vehicles are in flying mode, the mundanes can’t see us over them.” For some reason, this placed me at ease.

Back at the car, the other women are taking their leader’s promise to heart. Many have tried to investigate the strange convertible, but no one has been allowed to get close. Off to one side, I see what initially registers as a mangled corpse being dragged out of my sight. The leader helps me down from the SUV compartment.

“Think you’ll be able to get there without escort? Most folk around here know, that if you are able to power a flying vehicle, you’re not exactly helpless, if you know what I mean.”

“Yea, I’ll be able to get there okay. Thank you.” I bow slightly. “Thank you for showing me a safe place, and for proving your honor.”

He, his women, and his few men exploded into laughter. “I have no honor, girl. I just know who is prey, and who isn’t. Thank you, girl.” He bows to me, much to the surprise of his tribe. “Thank you, for not making me your prey tonight.” Inside I was surprised and shocked. But I kept the face of the amused predator and smiled and nodded.

Another peal of thunder, this time much closer. I thanked the women for their vigilance, and advised them to pull the bloody corpse so the blood will wash away from their vehicles’ tires, not towards it. Again, their leader bursts into exuberant laughter, while the women looked at me in surprise and awe.

I entered the car, and duplicated the steps he had shown me. The convertible rose into the air, an inch at first, then a few more inches. Aw yea. I have a flying car. I wave farewell to the leader and his tribe, and zoom off towards the safe lots. The rain was right behind me. As I passed over the river for the last time, I saw it had already flooded the surrounding areas severely. I would never have been able to cross by ground. The winds started to buffet me as I reached the safe lot. Landing, and making sure the top was closed and secure, I settled in for a good night’s sleep. The rain on the cover sent me quickly into a deeper sleep.

~~~ intermission ~~~

I woke up briefly, to the sensation of a muscle in my eyelid twitching like mad. It wasn’t enough to start cramping, but it was enough to remind me of a ticker-tape machine. tat-tata-tat-ta-ta-attata-tatata-ta-ta-ta–tatat…. TAT! Argh! No amount of willful feedback and relaxation techniques could make it stop. If anything, it only seemed to aggravate the condition. I start laughing. Oh well. I decide to ignore it and go back to sleep. It twitches violently one last time, and then I ignore it. I go back to sleep, with my eyelid dancing feverishly, trying to catch my fading attention.

~~~ dreaming resumes ~~~

For Want Of A Doll…

“I’m so glad to see you again, Keri. You just don’t know.” I look upon my former friend with a mix of nostalgia and wariness. He was instrumental in helping me to advance myself, but when I outgrew his expectations, he tried to lock me in place. Our final fallout was nasty, wounding, and public. And necessary. For both of us.

But here I am, at his doorstep. He had called out to me with a mix of panic and fear. His life was falling apart, and I was one of the few he could trust to him try and salvage things. He had two requests for me. The first request, I flat out denied him. I wouldn’t do that for my own flesh and blood. He pleaded, but I said if I did this thing he asked of me, I would have to be honest about it. Which meant detailing his sins against me. Which would only make his situation much, much worse.

He sighed, nodded, and agreed. At the very least then, would I house-sit for him, while he traveled to where he needed to go? There are no pets to take care of. An independent service takes care of the manicured lawn. He just wasn’t comfortable leaving the house unattended. “Besides, you’re good with keeping house spirits at peace, I’ve heard. I have some cranky bastards in my place, and they just can’t be left to their own devices.” I had already agreed to house-sit when he dropped this bombshell at my feet. I’d rather take care of a cranky mastiff. At least those I can wrestle with and have fun.

While I had looked at the house-sitting as a vacation, he was adamant about paying me. He had no cash, his legal trials took care of that. So he could only pay me in goods. He specialized in esoteric trinkets, talismans, dolls, and ritual items. I knew they went for a high sum of money, and his inventory sold as fast as it was made. I also knew there were those that looked on his work with debasement. There was something not quite right that was plainly apparent to those with eyes to see. Publicly, he was lauded. Privately, he was blacklisted.

He placed four boxes in my hands. This was my payment, he insisted. Each the size of a cigar-box, covered in red velvet and tied closed with red string. He said for me not to open the boxes while in his house, or I will run the risk of the objects inside being imprinted with his home’s magic aura. “The objects were purged and isolated before closing the box and sealing it. So now there’s an energetic vacuum. Where you break the vacuum will determine the usefulness of the objects to you.” Okay, this made sense. I tied up the four boxes with a knotting of my own hands and placed them to the side.

I knew his work was going to suffer while he was away. I asked if there was anything else I could do for him other than keep peace between the house’s resident spirits. He eyed me carefully. “I know your Name, Keri. Not that one. The other one. It’s one hell of a risk just having you under my roof. But I know you mean to work good for me, not woe. Even after what happened between us.”

“Then bind me, if you are concerned. This is not my house. I have only as much freedom here, as you allow it.” He stares at me in deep thought. He has to get on the road soon, or his troubles will increase beyond fixing. “However, since you’re bringing that up. Allow me to voice my own reservations. I’ve heard things about you, my old friend. Things that I do not want to believe. Things that will place you squarely against me, and the things that I do.” He swallows hard. “You know where my allegiances lie, old friend. If you are doing something that will cause me to react against you, I will find it. And I will put a stop to it. And you can not say you have not been warned, for as you have pointed out, you know my Name, not the name that all knows, but the other one.”

I spread out my empty hands before him. “With nothing I came here. With nothing I shall depart from here, if that is what you demand of me. If you wish me to remain here, house-sit, and keep the devouring spirit in the back room from taking nibbles on the hearth spirit in the kitchen, I’ll do that. I shall remind you, this is not my house. I can only go as far as you will me to go.”

He stares at me. Hard. As if he would pierce through me into the depths of my soul. He is already regretting asking me to help him, asking me to come over. I know he is hiding something. I know what he is hiding will wound me when I find it. (And I will.) But I also know this has to play out. I just haven’t figured out what portion is immovable. Does it have to be me that uncovers his secret? Or that his secret has to be uncovered at all?

He sighs. “I promised you long ago, that anything of mine, would be made available to you. Even if you asked for the last fork of food on my plate, I would give it to you. I can not deny you, Keri. I can not restrict you. My house, and all in it, are open to you. I do have a mundane request though.” His sudden shift in severity caught my attention. “I’m expecting a shipment of toys. If you would open the boxes the toys come in, take the toys out, and place them in the back room? I’ll deal with them when I get home. It’s just important that the toys are set aside.”

The request catches me off guard. “Yea. Sure.” He embraces me, kisses me on the cheek, and places the keys to the house in my hands. In under a minute, he is in his car, and on the road. Just me, his house, and his secrets for the next three weeks.

The first week went without relative incident. The back room was his workshop. It was guarded by a particularly vicious demon that raged and roared and threatened often to take over the rest of the house. It particularly wanted to devour the hearth spirit, which resided in the kitchen. The hearth spirit, a timid and peaceful creature, was completely unnerved by the demon. Many attempts to make tea the first day failed because the demon would scare the spirit, who would promptly turn off the stove’s flame.

I quickly put a stop to that. I marched back to the back room, threw open the door, breaking all the esoteric seals my friend had put in place in an attempt to contain the demon, and told the demon to shut the fuck up and knock the shit off, or I was going to eat an arm, a leg, and a horn. The rest of the house’s denizens drew back from me in shock. The demon, seeing that I had placed myself squarely in the disadvantage by disregarding seals and boundaries, lept forward to gleefully possess me.

When I left the room a few minutes later, the demon was in the far corner whimpering, and I was belching from my impromptu lunch of spiritual arm, leg, and horn. When I entered the kitchen, I found not only had the water been boiled, but a tea bag was in my mug, already steeping. I thanked the hearth spirit, and told it that it was not required to do these things for me. The stove’s burner bloomed into a moving flame. The flame wrapped around my hand gently, not burning, and squeezed in a sweet expression of gratitude. It knew it didn’t have to. It just wanted to.

Each morning, I made the rounds of the house, greeting the spirits I could see, and the rooms they inhabited. Including the demon. Each evening before I went to bed, I made the rounds of the house, bidding all a good night, and the rooms they inhabited. After the demon’s arm, leg, and horn grew back, it grudgingly replied in kind.

The second week, the shipment my friend was expecting arrived. I signed for it, and immediately noted something wrong. It was addressed to my friend, and had his home address on it, but it was addressed “Care Of”, meaning he is expected to deliver it to a final destination. This package is not meant for him. But this is how he gets his source materials for his esoteric tools delivered.

I brought it inside the garage, and the demon was actually glad and happy. I noticed the tone of the other spirits in the house was decidedly muted, almost mournful. I broke the seal on the package. ting-ting-ting Huh? A bell? “Ignore that!” The demon roared from the back room. “Ignore that and bring the toys in here AT ONCE!”

“Shut up, demon. You’re not the boss of me.” tingtingtingtingting The little bell sound was insistent. I could hear it through out the house. Curious, I left the package in the garage and traced down the source of the ringing. In the back yard, along the solid brick fence, was a little gate that I had not seen before. The gate was four feet high at its tallest point. Originally made of skillfully crafted wood, there were iron strips bound to this side of the gate. I knew at once the iron wasn’t for structural reinforcement. Hanging from the gate was a little bell. The little bell was being repeated struck by a thin stick. The stick was held by a small creature, that was trying hard to ring the bell without touching the gate. It stopped when it saw me approach.

“You’re not him! Where is he! Why hasn’t he given us what is ours!” The creature looked and sounded like a young human child of about six years of age. Behind kir were several other small creatures of the same type. They all appeared as children, but had a weariness to their eyes.

I knelt down to the gate and answered them. “What was supposed to be given to you? He is gone for a few weeks and I am in care of the house.” They tried to see through the slats, but the very presence of the iron made their eyes water. I heard them whisper to each other in the language of rustling leaves.

“It was made for us. We can’t get much of it over here, so another way was found. He is supposed to get it in the way that humans do, and then bring it to us. In return, we will help him with his endeavors. But he won’t give it to us, and we are hurting for it! He thinks he can rule us, but we are becoming impatient!” Ke stamped kir little foot and made little fists and whined with a little voice. But I knew, the only thing keeping me from being devastatingly hurt, was a series of iron bars crudely attached to a living wood gate.

“What is it?” I knew. But I wanted to be sure. I had warned him that I would find the truth of things. And he allowed me to stay anyway.

“The outer seal is broken. We can feel it even with this…”, ke waved at the gate, “in the way. Bring it to us, please! Don’t feed it to his pet monster!”

I made no promises that I would deliver it. I only promised I would investigate the package and decide accordingly. They cried and they pleaded, but they acquiesced they could not force me to do anything. As I walked away from the gate, I heard them discuss with each other, what my nature was. I was at both hostile and friendly to their senses.

Back in the house, the demon was roaring hungrily from the working room again. It could feel the power in the partially opened package, and it was impatient to receive it. All the other house spirits were anxious, waiting to see what I would do. I completely opened the shipment, finding a paper wrapped wood box. I noted not a single piece of metal was used to fasten the box together. Instead the joints were expertly made dovetail joints. Even then, I could feel a residual scent of power on the box. No metal was used to shape it, only stonework.

For that alone, I wanted to keep the box for myself.

I opened the box, and the bell began to ring impossibly fast. A scent bloomed from the contents, overwhelming me and spinning my awareness into a cacophony of unlived memories. Here was cotton candy, and rides on the merry-go-round, and playing tag with our shoes off, and jumping into puddles, and chasing puppies, and laughter. After the false memories washed over me, I was able to look into the shipping box proper.

Little boxes, much like the size of a cigar box, were stacked upon each other with slips of protective paper in between. In the distance, I could hear the demon beside itself at the bounty that it is about to receive. None of the boxes were sealed, so I opened one. Inside I found a little package of candy, a little package of bread, a little wooden toy, and a little wooden doll. I looked at the bright and cheery colors, thinking how they remind me so much of my childhood. Even though I don’t remember my childhood. I’m sure at one time I had to have had a happy time, and if I did, the contents of this box would be it.

The demon’s exultory roar brought me back to the present. My friend said to remove the dolls and place them in the working room. I picked up a doll and embraced it with my senses. The doll was not an empty object. It had something embedded deep within it. Something not of the human world.

With disgust, I realized that’s how he fed the demon. The demon would devour the fey essence from the dolls, leaving them empty of spirit. My friend would then conjure another spirit into the doll, and sell the repurposed doll as an esoteric talisman.

The toy in this particular box was a little wooden top. It harbored nothing inside. The candy and the bread, however, gave off a sharp odor. I’m sure this wasn’t meant for human consumption. This is how the fey folk was getting their goods around whatever blockade had crippled them. These “children’s toy boxes” were embedded with fey goods from inside to out. No one would begrudge a box that made them feel so happy! My friend would get the boxes delivered to him, and he would in turn pass them through the little gate. In return, the fey would help him with his own esoteric studies.

Except that’s not what happened.

He found the dolls were worth much more to other esoteric minded people, than whatever he was receiving from the fey. The demon that devoured the essences from the dolls, gave him more than what the fey were giving him. So he violated the contract. Bound iron to the gate to keep them at bay. And gave just enough of the shipment to keep them begging for more.

That son of a bitch.

I take the box I opened to the continually ringing gate. The bell ceases as soon as I kneel before it. I hold the open box up so they could see the contents through the bars. “Is this it?”

They jump up and down happily. “Yes! Yes! And it has all the pieces! It has all four!” I thought the toy was inert, but apparently it had its own piece of this puzzle. “Please give it to us! At once! At once!”

I pulled on the gate, but it was bound fast to the bricks around it. More iron, I noted. I found a sliding slot in the gate itself, just large enough for a closed gift box to fit through. I closed the box and slid it through. As soon as it was clear of the gate, they snatched it up before it could hit the ground beyond. They opened the candy and the bread and shared it amongst the three of them assembled there. Each one took turns hugging the little doll. They decided who would keep the toy, and it was quickly pocketed.

“We haven’t seen a doll in a long time. Even as we count time, it has been a long time. Tell us, human, were there more?”

I wanted to cry. I felt betrayed, even thought I was about to become betrayer myself. “Tell me, if I deliver the rest to you, what will become of him?”

“Why? Do you want to bargain with us too? Like he did?” The childish voices were angry. Justifiably so.

“No. I do not want to bargain with you, nor with him. I want to put things right. I am compelled to do so. But I am also compelled to do so without causing additional harm.” I felt so tired, so weary. “Or at least, with as little additional harm as necessary.”

When ke spoke again, the anger had fled. “He is bound to deliver to us a certain number of these sets. But only completed sets count. He hasn’t done so. He delivers sets with broken dolls, or opened bread. Often the sets are missing the dolls entirely. Once we have the required number, there is no other bargain between us.”

“And in return…?”

“In return, we are to teach him magic that only comes from us.” And now the puzzle is complete. He learned enough from them, to set up his working room. He conjured a demon to help transform the fey power in the dolls into something a human can use. Then using the now empty dolls as esoteric vessels. But his profit, and his control over the demon, is dependent on a steady supply of fey dolls.

“Have you taught him already?” “Yes.”

“So once you have all the boxes…” “We will leave him, and even our work in this gate will fade. Because you are not to cause more harm, we will not seek revenge if you help us.”

Okay. I know what to do. “Stay put. I’m going to get more boxes for you.” As I walk away from the gate, they start clapping happily.

Back inside the house, I call together the free-roaming spirits. “Are any of you going to try and stop me from delivering the rest of the fey’s goods to them?” They each replied in the negative. “It is only those items that are already inside the house proper, and have been altered by him that you have to protect, right?” They each replied in the positive. “Okay. That’s all I need to know. Oh, and buffer the hearth spirit from the demon until I get back inside.” They fled at once to the kitchen and filled it so completely, the windows started to collect condensation.

In the garage, I found a trolley and loaded the shipping box onto it. Pulling it out to the little gate, I found a great multitude of fey assembled beyond. “See! We told you! She will help us!”

“I haven’t opened any of these other boxes. I’ll just pass them through unopened, and let you guys decide if they are the right ones or not.” One by one, I slid the other gift boxes through the gate. They could not touch the box until it was falling free of the iron bound wood. As fast as I pushed them through, they were snatched up and shared with the others. Great cries of happiness spread through the crowd beyond.

“Enough! That’s it! We have it all!” The little voice caught me by surprise. I looked in the shipping box and found five more gift boxes. “No, because of his theft, more and more were sent in the hopes that some of it would reach us. Do with those what you will, human, we have what we were promised to have!” The crowd of cheers sounded as youthful as preschool, and as tired as a hard battled army.

“He will likely drain these dolls too. Hell, he even gave me a set of emptied dolls.”

“Did you know what they were, human?” I shook my head. “Then do not take guilt that is not yours to bear. But…” A sudden flurry of whispers danced beyond the gate. “If you are concerned, human, bring those dolls he gave you to us. And we will put them right.”

“But what of these that are still intact?” I wanted to remind them their promise not to seek revenge if I helped.

“Those are intact, but no longer connected to us. We have the binding we needed. Whoever is strong enough to claim their power, can have their power. They are useless to us now. But these other dolls you speak of, they burden your heart. You said you were not to cause additional harm, yes? Doesn’t that mean to yourself as well? Bring them to us, human. Do not carry guilt that is not yours to bear.”

I weighed kir words carefully. They were definitely up to something. But at the same time, ke had a point about undeserved guilt. I mumbled that I’d return quickly, and pulled the nearly empty box back to the garage. I picked up the four repurposed gift boxes, still tied with my knots about them, and brought them back to the gate. Kneeling down, I released the gift boxes from my knots, and passed them through the gate, repeating to them what my friend had told me about the vacuum like state within the box. They retied the boxes with cords and knots of their own, careful not to open them. “Carry no guilt, Friend of Puck.” Heh. They figured me out. “We will not seek revenge, as we told you. And the emptied dolls will not be used against him, either. But they will not be used by him, as well. Why did you not tell us, you are Friend of Puck?”

“Would you have believed me? If you had, would you have expected more of me than what I was able to do? That is a heavy name to carry. Better you find me as I am, than what someone else describes.” They agreed and bid me farewell. As they walked away, the enchantments on the gate were undone. The wood faded and the light dimmed. The gate became part of the brickwork once more, with iron rods embedded into the brick in a strange and compelling design.

Back in the house, there was madness at the entryway to the kitchen. The demon, sensing his ‘food’ was diminishing, had roamed through the house looking for the shipping box and the dolls it contained. But it could not enter the garage where I had left the five intact gift boxes. So it decided to finish off the hearth spirit once and for all. Only to be stopped by all the other house spirits that was barring it from entering the kitchen.

“What the flying fuck is going on in here?” I stepped into the house with the five intact gift boxes. The demon sensed them and came racing towards me. When it realized who was holding them, it came to a screeching halt a few feet from my face.

“You want?” “YES!”

“Then go to your room.” The demon stared at me as I spoke to it like its mother. So much rage crossed its face, but in the end it could do nothing but shriek viciously and scream as it returned to the working room. I entered the kitchen and checked up on the other spirits. “You guys alright?” They wrapped themselves around me in a humid hug. They were all okay. And the hearth spirit was untouched. “You came from one of these dolls, didn’t you.” The hearth spirit acknowledged its origin. “I don’t know how to release you. But I don’t think you’ll have very long to wait now.”

I addressed the other spirits in the house. “I’m going to give these five dolls to the demon. I don’t think there will be any more shipments. I don’t know what binds you to him, or to this house. But we have another ten days together. I suggest you enjoy the peace and quiet, because all hell is going to break loose the day after I leave.”

And for the next ten days, peace and quiet ruled the house. My friend came home to find I was packed and ready to leave. He wanted to talk about what had happened to him while he was away, about the troubles that did not get resolved. I cut him off quickly.

“They have their due.” His face blanched. “You knew I would find out. You know my nature. You knew I would help them.” He swallowed harshly, and nodded. “You haven’t learned a damn thing. You still view others as your personal stepping stool. When I refused to bend again, you tried to break me. You have a devouring entity in there, and you are feeding it soul pieces, so you can make pretty trinkets for sale!” I wanted to punch him. I wanted to rip him to shreds. I regretted allowing the fey to restrain from revenge.

Then I thought about what they had said. They would not seek revenge… for themselves. But if they knew I was “Friend of Puck”, then who else knows what happened here now…

“Anyways… there were five gift boxes left over. The dolls from those are in the working room, as well as the gift boxes themselves. Your hearth spirit needs better care, and the gate in the back wall has been sealed. And I paid your water bill. You should get your pipes checked, that’s awfully high for the little bit I was here.” I gave him the keys to his house. “I promised you, if you ever needed me, and called me, I would come and help. I never promised, that I would go against my own nature to do so. If you call me again, make sure you are ready for whatever upending I bring to your doorstep.” He nods, thanks me, and enters the house.

As I drove away, I thought I felt the hearth spirit crying. I certainly was. I looked down at the seat next to me, and there was one of the “empty doll” boxes I had given the fey. I opened it, to find a doll rested within. It was made of gold, with sapphire eyes, and dressed in finely stitched silk. Nothing at all like the simple children’s toy that was there. I touched the doll, and found something had been embedded within. But that something was friendly to me. I accepted the fey’s gift, and continued down the road.

The road lengthened, time slowed, and deeper sleep claimed me.

The Quite So Comfy Spider…

I turned in my sleep, not quite comfortable. Three thick and hairy somethings pulled me closer to a great big hairy something, and cuddled. I opened my eyes to find I’m snuggled up to the bright yellow spider from before. It’s eyes stared into eight separate directions, but somehow I knew it was watching me. “Did I snore?” It patted me gently on the head. “Time to wake up yet?” It draped a fourth leg across my body and pulled me even tighter to itself.

I laughed and embraced the spider as best as I could. “Okay.” My speech was still slurred with the softness of sleep. “Lemme know when it’s time to get up, or when something happens. By the way, did anyone ever tell you, you are very cozy to cuddle up to?” The giant spider shivered a moment of happiness and held me firmly.

And so I slept for the rest of the night.

Make of that, what you may.