Kedoredia leaned over the pool stretching her hand to touch the waters. The barrier to secure the cottage would be completed by mixing in the berry blood clinging to her finger. She could feel the chill of the water lap her finger when the sound of breaking glass stopped her.

Jyth allowed a ripple to travel through the feathers over his back as he alighted curiously on the stone arch. Cocking his head, he turned an eye toward the girl below. Her black dress and hair rippled in waves defined by tears in the cloth or clumped strands. Rippled, even though the air was dead.

Darkness reigned beyond the windows when the revelries finally stilled. Veth sat on the Black Throne, watching. A few men slumped over tables, too worn to seek their beds. Still Veth sat as a statue watching, separate from the merriment as always.

After century and a half Kosmos’ ineptitude still shocked me. In unison, the three stared dumbfoundedly at him. He twitched what constituted his head, equally dumbfounded at our shock.

Adralith groaned glancing at the mist covering the normally clear mirror. Someone demanded his presence. He glanced at his tart. It was perfect. Freshly baked, vibrantly red, fragrant, and the crust. Venna had outdone herself, and he’d missed the season the last three year’s.

“Something’s wrong with this thing.” Lola bellowed.

Nerezza let out an exasperated breath and straightening from the cauldron. “What now?”

Huffing, Emery shoved the unlatched door and stumbled into the conference room. Low conversations stilled as attention snapped to her juggling her pad and loose papers. Heat seared her cheeks.

The Pointless Axe was overfull. Overfull of noise. Of bodies. Silithie grimace, wrinkling her nose. And especially smells. The scents Rotten food, spilled drink, and unwashed bodies was aided by too infrequent breezes.

Belladonna tapped her finger on the stone wall watching her newest assignment sit in the grass a garden away. Seeing her through the wild plants was challenging. Hearing her, however, was simple. She was a fairy godmother, after all. Being able to hear her charges was part of the job.

“Athard! Athard!” The earsplitting chant was screeched by being of pure energy. Finay scowled at the twins unruly bouncing which caused the bed’s frame to groan. Finay snatched Piersym mid jump and pulled her close tickling the child. Mathis, flung himself on Finay’s other arm in protest.