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?”

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.

“At your service.” The words are quick and unwavering as always, spoken before I have a moment to see who summoned me. My eye open as the routines flood through my body. Ignoring muscles aching from lack of use I step forward, drop to one knee, and my head bowed.

Amelie kept her eyes locked on the receptionist. The flick of the woman’s eyes, the pause before speaking, and the words were familiar. “You’re one of them.” Her tone, however, was not. The words were flat.