A trail of curses fell from Cody’s tongue at the poor choice, as his eyes darted around the empty hall for a thread of spell work.

  He had accidentally obeyed the invitation, and was expecting the fairy to pick at his mind and try to conjure a trick of the eye. There were a few illusions it could choose from, especially if the magic he felt had made it into his mind. But he had a number of ways to dispatch such illusions.

  Typically it involved lighting the first thing that moved on fire.

  Nothing out of sorts greeted him though. He could feel a weight to the air from the spell, but the hall before him was quiet.

  Until he heard it. A music box. It was muffled by the closed door it hid behind, but the strange tune that zombified woman had sang before was clear enough. He readied his tome as he approached the door, ever so cautiously pushing on it to slowly swing the obstacle inwards.

  A well-lit room greeted him, centered by a luxurious bed that easily upscaled the guest room that had once sat in the same space. The thick bed frame was rimmed with wooden panels, detailed depictions of painstakingly carved dragons, knights and various magical creatures covering every inch of wood. He could pick out numerous common fairytales in the carvings, a childish detail if the bed wasn’t so big.

  Or perhaps it was still childish. Spoilt brats often had beds big enough to swallow them whole.

  The rest of the room only supported the theory. The floor was covered in polished, dyed tiles, each a different twilight colour to turn the floor into a chaotic dark mosaic. The azure wallpaper was barely visible through the clutter of framed drawings and miscellaneous trinkets. Cody tried to scan for theories through the framed clutter on the walls. The pictures did not look to be family. Far from it. There was perhaps a pet or two roughly sketched by hand. But the prevailing theme was… expletive.

  Well beyond his comfort zone, he distracted himself from searching the walls.

  He eyed the thin white veils that surrounded the bed, catching movement as something leaned up, giving a little stretch to ease the tension in the air.

  It definitely wasn’t a child. Cody could clearly tell by the choice of artwork and the woman’s silhouette behind the veil.

  A familiar voice came from the bed. The woman that had spoken through the walls. “Wouldn’t you like to peek?”

  Cody eyed the silky white veil, the disgust creeping up his stomach and threatening an audible gag. This was certainly not an enchantment that had picked at his mind, the sorcerer had conjured the setting. Perhaps it was the very room they were sitting in while they tormented Bervolt. Regardless, the bed was definitely flammable.

  “I’d rather eat pig’s feet.”

  The shadow behind the curtain moved, but not in an offended way. It shifted closer to the veil, pulling its legs up to sit.

  “But I just got these,” The woman hummed, “and I want to show them off to someone. Don’t be a bookworm and a bore.”

  Cody frowned as the shadow moved, his tension stilling to confusion as a leg stuck out between the veil of curtains. He thanked Alina ten times over it was clothed, wrapped tight in black leather that ribbed at the shin with ornate stitch marks. Cody eyed his surroundings, making sure this wasn’t a distraction to allow the real spellcaster to sneak up on him.

  “Please, don’t clap too loud.” The woman sighed, planting her foot and leaning up so her body was barely touching the veil. The shape of her silhouette gave Cody even more assurance that whatever was speaking to him was human.

  Or… almost. There had to be a reason it was hiding.

  “You didn’t clap. That’s all you get.” The voice remarked, as if reading Cody’s thoughts. “I finally got the fit right, and a slack-jawed wannabe villain can’t even give me a thumbs up. Do you know how hard it is to dye human skin?”

  Cody retracted in disgust, drawing a chuckle from the creature.

  “Gullible too.” The woman snorted. “You can’t make good leather out of that. It rips, like parchment.”

  “I’m not here for you to waste the clock,” Cody growled.

  “You already won that game. The mercenary did all the work for you.” The woman mused. “I wonder how long he’ll last against my little darling though.” Her voice lilted with excitement. “Shall we make that the next game?”

  “Two minutes.”

  She snorted. “Brutal.”

  “For your pet. Anyone who has been adventuring as long as that mercenary has definitely seen worse. His knees are more likely to take him out than whatever fairy you’ve roped into fighting him.”

  The leg retreated back into the curtain as the woman propped up into a more comfortable position. Cody tensed as she reached off into the shadow of her blankets and pull back a book. “Oh? And what if I asked you to help me? Neither of us has heroism on our agenda.”

  “Pass.”

  “Even if I was to sweeten the deal and make you my little apprentice?”

  “Even harder pass.”

  She tossed the book over her shoulder with a dramatic sigh, the volume sailing from the veil and landing on the tiles face down. Cody chanced the title, wishing he hadn’t. 'The Eight Inch Sword.' It wasn’t far from the portraits in the room, and had taken the liberty of putting a clear visual on the cover. At least it wasn’t a spell book the sorceress was grabbing.

  Cody cleared his throat awkwardly, “This place doesn’t appear to be in Bervolt. You’re engineering these spells from your bedroom?”

  “And what if I am?” She mused.

  He eyed the rest of the room, approaching a small vanity with a mirror to skim its cluttered surface for something he could use. If it was a fairy, a name would be the perfect thing to find. “It seems impersonal to go through all this effort only to be somewhere else.”

  “Part of the job description Cinnamon Stick. Our Lady said help Cindy, and I can do that just fine from here.”

  “Our Lady?” Cody replied, his mind trailing to the effigy in the middle of Bervolt. “The statue?”

  The woman gave him a little clap, sifting through her covers to retrieve yet another book. “What would you call her? The Witch of the Westlock?” She fluttered a few pages to find her spot in the novel, pulling up a pillow to lean back on. “She was a witch. On the first night, they burned her. On the second, they defiled what was left of her flesh. And on the third, she walked, and the city of Westlock fell around her.” The sorceress mused.

  “Can’t say I’ve heard of them.” Cody checked his shoulder to make sure the shadow wasn’t creeping up on him, going back to his search.

  “She is the flame of change that will free us. The Heroguard will fall to its knees, and with it, the world it corrupted. And then it will start anew, in worship of the primal gifts and beauty that magic brings.” She continued, tittering before snapping her book shut. “Or something like that.”

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “So a false god,” Cody said, earning an immediate scoff. He gave up on searching the vanity, checking around for the next promising clutter, and deciding on the small bookshelf that held a little army of figurines and statues atop it.

  “You know, when a lady invites you to her room it’s ill-mannered to sift through her things.”

  He checked his shoulder, the woman’s shadow unmoving from her position as she continued to read the book she held.

  “First time. Pardon the intrusion.” Cody replied, holding up a figurine of a gold-trimmed knight to admire its details.

  Coming up empty-handed from the figurines he crouched to skim the book titles, trying for anything that didn’t elude to racey contents. Finally, his eyes settled on a contender, ‘The Thousand Styles of Toroy Garoztch’. A well-used and thick book, with its golden letters rubbed and cracked from time.

  He pulled open the cover, a message inked by hand on the first page.

  To my little seamstress,

  Love, Dad

  Cody cursed under his breath, closing the book and filing it back onto the shelf. Was there any power in discovering her name? She had acted just like a fairy before. Perhaps she knew her name was nowhere to be found in the room.

  “You know, if you just tell me what you like I can name the title. I have them sorted.” She cooed, her shadow moving again as she craned her head around to stare at Cody. “And, since we were just talking about false gods. I know there is a boon around your neck. A Fire Ink Sapphire. That’s Alina’s gem, cheap, but so flashy.” She mocked.

  Cody stopped, glancing back at the woman curiously. “Have you had dealings with her?”

  “No. Pity the fools who call themselves her followers. I would never hand my memories over to a goddess that squeezed herself out of a quill’s nub.”

  Cody’s curiousity flattened again at the insult. “I choose the memories, and with your manners, I’m tempted to feed her one.”

  “Oh? You choose?” She mused. “And do you have that in writing, little warlock?”

  Cody frowned, blocking out her remarks from seeding their way in. But the mention of Alina had inspired him in a different way. While the creature before him may not have dealt with Alina, that did not mean they were foreign to the goddess.

  He grabbed the crystal, feeling Alina’s presence swell in his mind.

  “Cody did not know exactly what sat behind the veil. A human, most certainly. A fairy, most definitely.”

  “What does that mean?” Cody grumbled.

  “She was not a witch, much like the Witch of The Westlock she proclaimed loyalty to. Nor a queen of fairies that held power over her clutch, like her mother, Athansi. She was a princess of mortal corruption cast from the great spider queen’s perfect web, and raised by a mortal father, who, by means unwritten, had managed to seduce Queen Athansi. She despised her birth name, and had taken a new title to torment the world as an Agent of Death, The Spinner. The second to rise close behind the Witch.”

  The cockiness melted right out of Cody’s body. He was new to the region, and not well-versed in the Witch of the Westlock. But he was versed in fairies. Fairy Queens were powerful, just as formidable as Rethalon’s First Lights, and the lesser gods and primal spirits like Alina. Being born from the blood of a Fairy Queen practically made the sorceress before him a demigod. And with only half the blood, the power of a name was not nearly as effective.

  The shadow on the bed kicked its feet up, head rested on its hands. “Oh? Pray tell, what’s Alina saying?”

  “Athansi is your mother?”

  “Aren’t you glad I’m not here in person?” She laughed, tapping her fingers on the book at her side and stroking through the pages. “Tell me, Alina, do you still have your silver tongue up Rethalon’s arse? How does sunlight taste coming out of that end?”

  Cody clutched the crystal as it began to thrum, Alina’s presence in his mind spiking so quickly it was painful. “She was a mistake. Unloved, and seeking attention from any corner that would toss her a thought. And so she found the Witch of the Westlock, and proclaimed herself an Agent of Death. But to her it was not loyalty, it was simply another spotlight to whine inside of.”

  Cody pursed his lips. But Alina was not finished.

  “Cody, now knowing these things, was tempted to say them to The Spinner.”

  “I’m not saying that,” Cody whispered, eyeing the veil and praying he was quiet enough to avoid the demigod’s ears. “You come down here and say that.”

  Alina’s voiced was steeped with disappointment. “But alas, Cody was a coward and a fool. It was anyone’s guess why he hadn’t burned through the illusion he stood in yet.”

  “I was trying to gather information,” Cody mumbled, his stomach blooming with worry as Alina’s presence pulled away.

  “Word of advice, if you manage to make it out of this house.” The Spinner mused, tickling at the veil playfully. “If you want to be a real villain, drop that slippery snake around your neck and learn to screw with a few heads yourself.”

  “Our visions for villainy are a little too… different.” Cody replied, eyeing some of the decor in the room, his body stiff as a board as he spelled out an incantation behind his back. “by the way, Alina says your story isn’t all that entertaining. Poor plot, weak motivation. Her words, not mine.”

  “And what do you think?” The Spinner replied, a weight piercing the veil as Cody could have sworn he saw a red glimmer in her shadowed eyes, boring directly into his soul.

  “I think it would be great if we never met again.” He said, muttering a quick verse to finish the spell. The bed before him burst into flames, ripping through the illusion before him to expose the familiar guest room he had wandered into.

  But one detail sat out of place. This bed had no veil, but upon it, a person still sat. Rotted and twitching as it gave Cody a fleshy smile. No words came from Cindy, just a bone-chilling shriek as she lurched.

  Cody turned so fast his foot kicked out from underneath him, sending him and the tome in his hands tumbling to the floor. The creature landed on the floor just behind him with a bony thud. He felt the creature's hand grab at his robes, its frayed nails snagging at the fabric as he desperately tried to scramble away. Sharing Maynard's fate was not how Cody wanted to go. Dragon fire would be a better fate than torn to shreds by a empowered undead.

  A cry of fear slipped when he felt the creature tug him backwards, his fingers slipping off the cover of his tome and leaving it just out of reach. He threw a desperate kick at the undead, the creature catching his foot and ripping his boot off instead.

  Cody moved his leg away from a swiping claw just in time, his voice coming out as a yip of fright. "Help!" He didn't care who came running, if the mercenary was nearby he would just refuse to acknowledge this embarrassment ever happened.

  But the doorway remained empty.

  He felt a swipe land, a painful sting swelling up his thigh as the creature tore down his leg. Cody clutched his last failsafe, feeling Alina's presence drift back into his mind.

  "Alina, help!"

  The undead snarled at the name, lurching forward to try and swipe the necklace from Cody's hands.

  Alina's voice chirped with amusement at the predicament. "Cody was in trouble."

  "No shit!" Cody retorted, ducking another grab from the undead and trying once more to crawl away from it. But like a never-ending dance of terror, it grabbed his robes and dragged him right back to the spot he had wiggled out of.

  "But was he willing to trade?"

  Alina could feel Cody's terror, they both knew this. But it was a procedural contract. Hell or high water. Dragon or feral shrieking undead. She did not provide freebies.

  A 'yes' nearly left Cody's lips when he caught movement by the door. Clunky brown leather boots that were clearly too big for their energetic occupant. A pair of fierce emerald eyes met his, and like a shower of cold rain after a heatwave, his body immediately filled with relief.

  He heard the snap of a crossbow, and threw his hands up to cover his ears as a ball of fire exploded just behind him. Sariel's words were completely muffled by the ringing in his ears, but he could piece together the gist of it as she helped him to his feet, stared at his bloodied leg, then gave the headless corpse an aggressive kick. Cody poured out the thank you's while his hearing returned, accepting Sariel's arm as she helped him out of the smouldering room and into the hall.

  He could hear a scuffle upstairs, muffled impacts as various items toppled over. Whatever the mercenary was doing up there was anyone's guess, but Cody would have to catch his breath and recollect himself before running headlong in to help him - he wasn't intent on a third near death experience.

  He relaxed against the nearest wall, checking his torn pant leg and the bloodied scratch underneath. It was shallower than the pain had let on. He could walk with a minor pinch, and without Sariel to stop him, it would have been to the closest sanitation spread. Cody heard a loud slam from the attic, his lips pricking into a frown.

  But the mercenary needed help, and he wasn't going to leave Sariel to do all the work.

  Cody sighed, accepting Sariel's hand to help him back to his feet. It took Cody some time to realize Alina was still lingering in his mind, watching Sariel through his eyes.

  Alina was careful to keep her feelings from leaking through this time, which only put Cody more on edge.

  He focused on her presence, alerting her to his attention.

  Without a word, he felt Alina's presence pull away.

  And then, the entire house trembled as a explosion echoed from the attic.

  You might be wondering if the BBEG is WFH mass murdering while reading smut.

  Yes. She is.

  Rollllll credits!