The Deer (fiction)

First ~ Second ~ Third ~ Fourth

Taryn half-expected the Marquis to wake him up again the next day, but he didn't. By the time he woke, the sun was already high over the horizon, and he was alone.

For a time, he sat in bed, half expecting someone to come get him. That's what had happened before; Holy or Briar or even the Marquis had come in and led him to breakfast, or gave him clothes, or something. But nobody came, and he was left to the silence of the empty room.

Well, empty didn't fit so much anymore. Not since they'd brought in all the fancy furniture. Off on the many-drawered desk Briar told him was a escritoire was the small collection of gifts he’d received over the past week; the lumpy coal from the Bird, the strange seed from the dead man’s tree. The dead man’s rusty sword was leaning against it. Sometime while he was gone the previous day, somebody (probably Holly, he guessed) had put down a few thick rugs and hung up some curtains, and the place was starting to be actually comfortable.

More than back home was, that was certain.

He thought of the tiny house-- which was more a hut, really. Two rooms only, a fireplace, wooden walls and a thatched roof, and three straw mattresses on the floor--

He frowned.

Why were there three mattresses when he lived alone?

He tried to make the memory fit. Maybe he liked to change where he slept at night? Though he didn't remember doing that, he only ever remembered sleeping in the one by the wall.

For some reason, the thought unnerved him. An anxiety began in his chest and threatened to grow, threatened to upset his stomach and his head and everything else, and so he quickly shut the thought down and climbed out of bed.

He would leave such odd thoughts behind him, he decided, and instead of and see why everyone was ignoring him.

* * * * *

It didn’t take long for him to become lost; the castle was a rat's nest of rooms and hallways, and without Holly or Briar or even the Marquis to show him the way, he soon lost his bearings.The halls were quiet-- eerily so.

Once, a group of laughing people opened a door and looked like they were about to head out, but then they saw him and ducked back inside the room, closing the door behind them. When he went to knock and ask for help, the door remained closed, and the people inside didn't answer.
A little later, down a different hallway, he saw maid leaving one of the rooms. He called out for her, and he knew she saw him, but she still turned and bustled away, nearly running.

“What did I do?” he said. The people here hadn’t been exactly friendly before, but they hadn’t run away from him!

Eventually, he found some people in the hallway who he thought couldn't possibly hide and ignore him.

There were three of them, two elfmen and a woman, and they all wore the autumnal browns, reds, and dark greens of the House colors, though they lacked any of the gold ornamentation the Marquis wore. Their hair was shiny black and cropped short, even the lady, which Taryn hadn't seen before.

When they first saw him, they ceased their conversation and tried to look busy, suddenly interested in dusting the windowsill and inspecting the moulding on the walls.

"Excuse me?" Taryn said.

They ignored him, almost frantically. They dusted and inspected and avoided looking at him with almost comic desperation. Any other time, it would have been funny. But today, he'd woken up alone in the quiet with disquieting thoughts.

"Can you help me?" he said.

That seemed to resign them. As a unit, they stopped pretending to clean and turned to bow at him, murmuring politely. Of course they could help, they were there to serve, young master.

"Do you know where Holly and Briar are?" Then, realizing not everyone would know the nicknames he had given out, added, “Those are the two people who help me normally.”

They exchanged quick glances with one another, then one elfman stepped forward and bowed again. "Your Holly is visiting her family today in Tannem. Your Briar is in Apkalla on the Marquis' behest."

"Oh," said Taryn. "Where's the Marquis?"

"Running errands in the outer villages, I'm afraid."

"Oh." Well, that was disappointing.

It must've shown on his face, because after a moment, the elfman asked, clearly uncertain, "Are you. . . alright?"

“I-- no. I don’t know where I am, and nobody was there when I woke up. And-- is the Marquis mad at me?"

He didn't even realize that was one of the things bothering him until he put it into words. Yesterday, the Marquis hadn't spoken to him at all on the way back from the dragon, not even to lecture him, and when they had gotten to the castle, he had simply said he was going to be by himself and left Taryn alone. Now, it felt like he'd sent everyone Taryn knew away.

The elfman faltered. "I-- I don't believe so," he said.

It wasn't the least bit convincing. "Alright," said Taryn.

The elfman looked back to the others, frowning. Then he seemed to make up his mind about something.

"Pardon me, your lordship, but have you had a proper tour of the castle yet?"

He shook his head. "No. I've seen the gardens a lot, though. And the empty rooms by my room."

“Would you like me to guide you?”

“Yes please.”

The elfman nodded and gave another small bow. “As you will. Please, follow me.”

“Wait!” said the elfwoman. They stopped to look at her, and her cheeks turned pink. ”Pardon," She looked Taryn up and down. "Would the young master like to get dressed first?"

Taryn looked at his sleeping clothes: long, soft shirt and loose pants. They seemed perfectly fine, much nicer than any of the clothes he had back home, but dressing up in the House colors seemed important to people around here.

“Yes, please.”

She turned to the last remaining elfman and shot him a questioning look, to which he emphatically shook his head.

“Oh no, you two can handle it, I’m sure.”

His guides rolled their eyes and gestured for Taryn to follow. They led him briskly down a different way than he’d come, through a discreet door at the end of the hall, into a much more cramped hallway that had very little light and that spat them out into a luxurious sitting room, which they then left immediately. Through such strange, secret shortcuts Taryn would never have guessed existed, they quickly led Taryn back to his room.

The moment they were in, the elfmaid began searching through the bureaus for clothes, and the elfman started looking politely at the furniture.

“How did you do that?” he said. “I wandered forever and got lost in just the big hallways!”

They laughed, and she said, “we’ve been here a very long time.We could probably find any room in the castle blindfolded, at this point. Here, these clothes should do.”

“What are these?” the elfman said, looking at the desk with the gifts.

“Those are presents things give me,” Taryn said, collecting the bundle of clothes from the elfmaid. He hurried behind the dressing screen.

“Things?” the elfman said. “There’s a sword in here. Why give you a rusty sword? Surely someone of your standing-- ah. Pardon. I don’t mean to speak out of turn.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Taryn said. He finished dressing and found the elfman examining the sword.

“It’s rusted really bad,” Taryn said. “But it wasn’t his fault. I think he was dead for a really long time, and I guess when you’re dead, you can’t take care of things properly.”

The elfman froze. On the other side of the room, the elfmaid had a coughing fit.

“What’s wrong?” Taryn said.

When the elfman spoke, the words were slow. “This. . . was the dead walker’s sword.”

“Yeah. The Marquis said he left it for me. And this is the seed that the magic tree gave me when we buried him.” He went and picked up the glossy black seed. “It’s funny that it’s black, because when the tree woke up, it was really, really colorful! Like it was flower petals instead of leaves. And this thing is what the bird gave me-- only I think everyone might be right that it wasn’t a bird. It looked like a bird to me, but after it was with its family, I didn’t actually see it, and it felt really really heavy when it jumped on me, so maybe the Marquis was right. But even if he was right about it not being a bird, he was wrong about it being a demon, because it was very nice and gave me a present after.”

He held up the lump of coal proudly, and didn’t notice how pale the two had become.

“Right,” the elfmaid said eventually. “Well, it appears you’re all dressed now, and I have other duties to attend to. Have a wonderful day, m’lord.”

And she ducked out of the doorway, even though the elfman raised his hand as though to stop her, or ask her help.

“Did I do something wrong?” Taryn said.

“Ah. No,” the elfman said. He carefully placed the sword back on the desk. “Your gifts are very . . . impressive.”

Taryn beamed.

“Come,” said the elfman, “Let us go somewhere else. Anywhere else. Have you eaten yet?”

“No.”

Then we shall visit the kitchens first.”

He cast one last nervous glance at the gifts, and then escorted Taryn out of the room. He led him down another series of secreted little hallways and hidden doors. Taryn giggled uncontrollably at one point where a door was hidden inside a closet, inside a wardrobe.

“Why are they like that?” he said. “Why are they hiding?”

“In the past, some lords of the house were very particular about their servants. That is, they liked to pretend we didn’t exist, and didn’t like to see us traveling the castle about our duties.” His guide threw his hands up, gesturing to the tiny, hidden hall they were in. “This is the result.”

“The Marquis isn’t like that, though,” Taryn said.

The elfman smiled. “Correct. He’s a much kinder lord than those we’ve had in the past.”

Taryn frowned. Kind didn’t seem like an appropriate word to describe the Marquis, but he let it go and focused on keeping up.

As they passed through the castle, periodically they passed people as well. Some were clearly busy, carrying things, cleaning things, arguing about where things should go or how they should be, and some were apparently on break, standing around chatting.

In all cases, whenever they caught sight of Taryn and his guide, conversations stopped. People would stand up straight and still and silently watch the pair pass, or they would freeze for a moment, then throw themselves into their work, as though hoping the pair hadn’t noticed them.

Once, the two popped out from behind a bookshelf-door and interrupted two maids that had been tidying the room. One of them curtseyed politely, while the other ducked into a nearby closet and slammed the door behind her.

As the pair left the room, Taryn said, "People here don't like me much, do they?"

The elfman blinked and slowed to a stop. "Why do you say that?"

"Everyone's always whispering and looking at me," Taryn said. "And they all stop and stare, or pretend like they aren't. And I tried to ask for help earlier, but they closed the door on me and pretended they weren't there, and now people jump in closets. . .”

"Ah," the elfman said, looking uncomfortable. "It's not that they don't like you, necessarily. It’s-- the situation is very strange. Most of us have never seen a human before. Some of us have never seen a child before. And just about all of us aren't sure what to do about you, given your. . . position."

"Oh. Because I saved the Marquis?"

"That too."

Taryn frowned.

"What do you mean you don't see children? Do elves not have babies?"

"We do. Just very rarely. Our people are not blessed often with children."

"Why not?"

His guide smiled at him. "It is said our ancestors bartered with the gods, and that was the exchange. We live a long time, but bear few children. The ones we do have are precious to us, so you may understand how the sight of you may be. . . conflicting."

Privately, Taryn wasn't quite convinced, but he found himself reassured anyway.

The elfman took him down stairs into an enormous, bustling kitchen filled with people all preparing enough food to feed the entire castle. One side of the room was lined with enormous fireplaces build into the walls that had roasting meats and boiling cauldrons. In the center was a long, long table full of vegetables and people chopping them. And on the other wall were rows of grills and ovens and people using them. The air was hot and smelled delicious.

Nobody paid them any mind when they entered, and Taryn stood back while his guide bobbed and weaved expertly into the throng of cooks until he found who he was looking for: an enormous elf woman with a big, blocky knife who was hacking at a chunk of meat. Taryn couldn’t hear what his guide said; the room was full of noise. But he did hear the women bellowing back at him.

“--bold to come in here when I’ve got a cleaver--!”
“No! Breakfast is over already, you know this--”
“--I don’t care if he’s-- what?”

And then the elf woman raised her head and saw him.

Taryn waved shyly, half afraid she’d run away like some of the other people he’d seen that morning.

She didn’t run, but her jaw dropped, and she hollered, “You brought him down here?”

And his guide hollered back, “-- just a child! Hasn’t eaten--”

And then the two of them were heading his way. The crowd of cooks parted before her without missing a beat, and then she was in front of Taryn, her arms crossed, and she looked down at him with clear disapproval.

“I don’t want any trouble in my kitchen. I run a tight ship, and I’ve been running it for centuries. I’ve been here longer than the last five lords combined, and I won’t have anyone come down here trying to change things, you hear me?”

He felt himself shrinking. He desperately wished that his guide were closer so that he could hide behind him.

“Yes ma’am.”

She scowled at him. “Speak up.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And stand up straight.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“You’re a lord of the house.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“You’re not acting like it.”

“Sorry ma’am.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m hungry, ma’am. Sorry ma’am.”

Her frown deepened, but she turned to his guide and said, “He can stay ‘cause he’s polite. Set him up in the corner table over there and I’ll have someone get him something.”

“Thank you, Nettle,” Taryn said, speaking loudly to be heard over the ruckus.

Both the chef and his guide started. She turned to look at him, her eyes wide. “Well!” she said. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to add something, but then she shook her head and hurried off back into the fray.

He and his guide sat down at the small corner table and waited.

“That was a kind thing you did,” his guide said. “She’s been here for well over six hundred years, and not one of the previous lords thought to give her a name.”

“The Marquis told me not to go around giving nicknames to people,” Taryn said. “But he didn’t say why. It’s not bad, is it? How does that work? Don’t you have your own names? How can you go around without a name?”

His guide shrugged, but looked away. “My apologies, but I’m afraid this seems like a conversation you and the Marquis should have. I’d not want to overstep--”

“Don’t worry--”

ash oak birch yew rowan maple apple alder

"--Elm,” Taryn finished.

Elm nearly fell off his chair.

“My lord,” he said, eyes wide.

Taryn cackled, and was still giggling when one of the cooks came by with a plate of pastries and mugs of tea.

While Taryn ate, Elm went to go speak to Nettle again, leaving Taryn alone with his thoughts. At some point he would have to figure out this naming business. The Marquis had asked him not to give people nicknames anymore, but he had never explained why.

Serves him right for ignoring me if I name everybody in the castle, Taryn thought.

* * * * *

Taryn spent the rest of the day following Elm around the castle grounds, learning about the history of previous Marquises and finding rooms that ranged from being impressive because he had grown up poor, to being impressive because they were magical.

~ ~ ~

There was an art room, a massive place in the middle of the castle that shouldn’t have had windows, nor so tall a ceiling, but had them anyway. Hundreds of paintings lay hidden under tarps, and Taryn and Elm spent a good hour admiring them.

“Good old Lord Hovera,” Elm said. “A great lover of art, less a lover of duty. You’ve seen his work already hanging in many of the castle rooms.”

“What happened to him?”

“Eaten by fairy rats.”

~ ~ ~

There were four libraries, one of which was locked up and private in the Marquis chambers, and one of which was at the very top of a tower and an inconvenience to reach, but was worth it because it was filled with magic books that read themselves and had illustrations that moved on the page. The other two were on opposite sides of the castle because they had belonged to the old Marquis’s wife and consort, who had hated one another.

“What’s a consort?” Taryn said.

“Uh. The Marquis will tell you when you’re older."

~ ~ ~

There was an astronomy tower, built by a more recent lord who had been far more interested in stars than his duties to the march. The ceiling was fantastically high up and comprised of domed windows that always displayed the starry night sky, regardless of the time of day.

"How come I didn't see the tower from outside?" Taryn said. He distinctly remembered the castle looking squat and fortified, without grand towers.

"Magic," said Elm with a shrug. "He spent almost the entire treasury on outfitting and enchanting the place, then got torn apart by monsters a week after its completion. Nobody's bothered with it since."

~ ~ ~

"Why are there so many empty rooms by mine?" Taryn said while they walked.

"Some of the previous lords were fond of having company and throwing parties," Elm said. "I think it was Pip, or maybe Metheras? I don't recall, before my time. But one of them actually added that entire wing so he could host more guests and throw more parties. Then he died one way or another. If it was Pip, he got drunk and fell off a balcony, and if it was Metheras, he was gored by a wild deer, and the next one cleared out all the rooms and stored what he didn't dump."

"And what's in the tower at the end of the hall?" Taryn said. "There were stairs that went up, and ones that went down."

"I have no idea, actually!" Elm said. "If you follow the stairs in either direction, they lead to locked doors. As far as I know, nobody’s been in either since I started working here."

"When did you start working here?"

He shrugged. "About a hundred years ago, give or take. Oh! Come on, pick up the pace, we'll miss lunch if we dawdle."

~ ~ ~

They spent most of the day indoors, but the last thing Elm wanted to show him was outside.

"Is it another garden?" he said. Gardens were nice, but he felt as though he'd seen them all by now.

"Nope. Better. You mentioned before that you raised birds, yes?"

Taryn nodded. He'd told Elm all about the ducks and geese and hens back home.

"Then you might enjoy this."

He led them to a place in the stone castle wall that had a fake archway of bricks build into the side. Then, with a grin, he placed his hand in the center of the archway where it should have met stone. His hand passed right through.

"It's fake?" Taryn said. He immediately tried to shove his hand through and only succeeded in banging his fingers against the rock.

"It's magic," Elm said. "Here, take my hand. It should let you through if we're together."

Beyond the arch was an open, grassy field dotted with white flowers, with no sign of the castle or the villages or Forest at all. Even the sky was a different shade of blue, and the air was warm like late spring, rather than the early autumn they'd left behind. The only structures on the field were odd little huts on stilts that, though different in shape and make, Taryn recognized immediately as hen houses.

And in the field were hens. At least a hundred pecking, scratching, clucking, bright blue hens.

"Chickens?" Taryn shouted. "They're blue?"

"The finest stock," Elm said proudly.

"Why are they blue? I love them!"

And before Elm could answer, Taryn ran into the field and rolled in the grass, careless of his clothes or the unfortunate natural things he might be rolling in. He rolled into a sitting position and held his hands out, and the chickens slowly, suspiciously, came to investigate.
When one drew close enough, he snatched up in a hug.

The hen didn't resist, which was comforting. The ones back home were also used to him handling them so unprofessionally. These hens had feathers in shades of light, sky blue darkening down to nearly violet, with speckles of different blue shades all over, and though they looked different from the ones back home, they sounded the same, and felt the same. The other hens, uncaring about their comrade’s plight, came closer to peck at his clothing, just as the hens at home did.

"My lord?"

Taryn heard Elm approaching, heard the chickens muttering as he picked past them, but he kept his face buried in the hen. He didn't see, but he felt movement as Elm kneeled down beside him.
"I'm sorry," Elm said. "I didn't mean for this to upset you."

Taryn wiped his eyes. "No, no, it's fine. I'm glad you brought me here. I like chickens. They just remind me of home."

He stood up and loosed the hen he'd snatched up. Elm was still looking concerned, so he smiled in a way he hoped was reassuring. "Is there anything to feed them?"

And, clearly relieved to have a problem he could solve, Elm rose to his feet and helped him find the feed bins.

* * * * *

When the Marquis returned late that evening, he called for Taryn to join him in his personal study.

Taryn set down the colored sticks he’d been drawing with-- strange tools Elm told him were called pastels. He and Elm were both back in the art room. After dinner, they had come back and found some blank canvases and art supplies and had spent the afternoon painting, sketching, and coloring by lantern light.

“He wants me right now?”

The elf that had been sent to retrieve him nodded politely, and though his eyes scanned over the boy’s color-stained hands and chicken-messed clothes, he did not comment.

Taryn looked sadly at his incomplete chicken drawing, then got to his feet. Elm also rose to his feet with a sigh. "I suppose it’s back to work for me as well.”

“Thank you for staying with me today.”

“My pleasure,” Elm said. “Thank you for getting me out of washing duty for a day.”

The messenger elf led him through the house the normal way; no secret servant halls or hidden doors. Taryn tried not to be disappointed and soon found himself in front of the Marquis.

He sat in the center of the room at a large, ornate desk that probably had some kind of fancy name. There were no windows in the room, only massive shelves of books that covered all of the walls. There were a few comfy looking chairs a ways away by the fireplace, but they were too big to move, so Taryn stood in front of the desk while the Marquis finished whatever he was writing.

"I'm told you spent the day exploring the castle," the Marquis said. He did not look up.

"Yeah," said Taryn. "Was I not supposed to?"

"I am simply surprised to see you still here," the Marquis said. "I would have thought you'd be off in the countryside, finding more wild things to befriend."

There was something about his tone that made it impossible for Taryn to tell if he was joking or not.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to leave?”

“That hasn’t been a notable obstacle for you in the past,” the Marquis said.

He still didn’t look at Taryn. He rose from his seat and went to a tall, narrow table behind him that was full of bottles and glasses. Taryn watched him inspect a few bottles, find one he approved of, and then poured himself a drink.

“Am I in trouble?” Taryn said.

The Marquis owned the rink in one go, and then began pouring himself another.

“No,” he said.

He returned to his chair with a third drink and sat heavily, his eyes closed. After a moment, he finally looked at Taryn. Taryn could nearly see him thinking, see him registering his paint-stained hands and the chicken-messed clothes, but the Marquis didn't mention them.

Instead, he said, "You are free to wander the castle grounds as you please. Nowhere is off limits. Anything I own is yours. If you want to visit any of the villages, the farmlands to the west, the fields where the mounts graze-- all you need do is ask for a guide. Or don't, if you think you can find the way on your own."

Taryn frowned. This wasn't at all what he'd been expecting. Only a few days ago, the Marquis had seemed satisfied having him locked in his room for the rest of their lives.

"Can I go home?" Taryn said.

The Marquis went very still for a moment.

"No," he said eventually. "Please do not ask me that again."

Taryn nodded, disappointed but not surprised.

"When will Holly and Briar come back?"

"Your Holly will be away for a few days yet, though your Briar should return tomorrow evening. I understand you've once again named more of my staff. I realize now that I cannot stop you from doing so, I only ask that you do so with prudence. Is that clear?"

"No. What's prudence?"

The Marquis blinked. "Good judgement and caution," he said. "Now, If there's nothing else, then I have other matters to attend to." He rang a small, silver bell and a servant, a woman Taryn didn't recognize, appeared at the door.

"She will guide you back to your rooms." Then the Marquis wrinkled his nose and said to the woman, "Please see to it that he gets cleaned up."

With that, they were dismissed. As he was ushered out of the room, Taryn cast once look back at the Marquis. The last thing he saw before they turned from the doorway was the Marquis staring intently at his third drink.

* * * * *

Taryn woke up late again the next day, and was once again alone. However, this time there was no cold, empty, homesick feeling, only determination. He didn't bother changing out of his sleeping clothes, but he did put on the long coat and sturdy boots the Marquis had given him.

Today, he had a mission; if he was allowed to explore outside the castle, then he needed to see exactly how far he could go. Clearly, something was wrong with the Marquis. It was the only explanation for why he'd let Taryn go off on his own. Whatever it was, Taryn needed to take advantage of this before he regained his senses and changed his mind.

He stepped out of his room and nearly immediately ran into a maid. She was younger looking than most of the elves he'd seen, though that didn't mean much, and when she saw him, she quickly curtsied and averted her eyes.

"M'lord," she said.

"I'll give you a name if you take me to the kitchens," he said.

She stared at him, mouth agape, and then swept away down the hall. "This way!"

"Wait!" Taryn hurried after her. This time, he took pains to actually memorize where they went.

One turn left, fourth door, two turns right, down the stairs. . .

The kitchens were a whirlwind of action, loud and busy and full of people. At the doorway, Taryn grabbed his guide’s sleeve.

“Daisy,” he said. “Please wait for me?”

She nodded, eyes wide. As Taryn turned towards the doorway, there was a sudden loud squeal behind him. He looked and saw Daisy still there, face flushed, hands covering her mouth.

“Pardon,” she said.

Nobody noticed him enter the kitchen; it was far too busy. But he pulled over one of the corner chairs and stood on top of it, nearly bringing himself to eye level with the staff, and he hollered at the top of his lungs, “May I please speak to Nettle?”

All heads turned towards him. Refreshingly, they didn’t seem to care at all that he was, well, him, whatever that meant. They gave him disinterested looks, and then turned their heads all towards the end of the line and cleared a path.

“I’m comin’,” Nettle said. “I’m comin.”

As soon as she was through, work resumed.

“Well,” she said, crossing her arms. “It’s the little lord. What is it?”

"Nettle,” Taryn said, grandiose and proud. "The Marquis says I can wander off, and I am going on an adventure, and I need to pack lunch for later."

"Oh, an adventure, ehy?" She looked him up and down. "And I suppose you'll be adventuring in your pajamas?"

"I've got shoes on."

"And I guess that will have to be enough. Alright, wait a sec. . . "

She stuck out her hand and managed to time it perfectly to grab an unsuspecting worker who’d been carrying a basket of veggies. She spoke a few words to him, and he hurried off, dumping the basket on the table for the others to deal with. When he returned shortly after, he carried a rucksack.

“If you’re going to be wandering off who-knows-where,” Nettle said, taking it, “Then you need a proper bag. Didn’t think of that, did you? Wait there, let me go grab you something. You haven’t eaten yet, have you? I don’t know why they keep letting you miss breakfast. . . “

She left, muttering to herself. When she returned, the bag was surprisingly heavy. Taryn beamed. “Thank you, Nettle,” he said.

“Go,” she said. “Go on, have your little adventure. Be back for dinner. It’s roast.”

Taryn nearly ran from the kitchen, bursting with excitement. Outside, Daisy still waited, and when he asked her to guide him outside, she happily obliged, even as he made her slow down several times so he could try to memorize the path.

* * * * * *

He started in the village still within the citadel’s walls, but the people there kept staring at him. They didn’t even have the awkward shame of the castle staff; they openly gawked at him, even when he was looking right at them, and in the end he decided that it couldn’t be a proper adventure if there were so many witnesses.

From there, went beyond the village to the orchards beyond the walls. Orderly rows of nearly kempt trees that bore fruit he didn’t actually recognize, not even from any of the meals he’d had. He made a note to himself to ask someone about them-- Holly or Briar when they got back, or maybe Nettle if she wasn’t too busy, maybe Elm if he could find him again.

On the other side of the orchard, still touching the wall, was a pasture and a sort of stable for the enormous white deer the Marquis and his knights used as mounts. He tried to climb the fence to go pet the deer, but immediately, an old elfman came out and yelled at him.

This was surprising, both because so far nobody but the Marquis had so much as raised their voice at him, but also because he wasn’t used to seeing elves so obviously old. The elfman had thin, gray hair and a bushy beard, and though Taryn was going to practice prudence and not say it out loud, the man immediately settled himself in his mind as Gorse.

“But the Marquis said--” Taryn began.

“He didn’t tell me anything,” Gorse said. “I’m not letting anyone harass the animals, and I’m not letting you hang out in here unsupervised. Good way to get your head kicked in, sorcerer or not. That clear?”

“I just want to pet them,” Taryn said.

“Then you can pet them when they come to you. You don’t go in there with them without someone to watch you, and it’s not me, because I have a job to do. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” Taryn said.

The old man snorted and walked away, though not too far away, like he wanted to see if Taryn would try to climb the fence again. It was particularly irritating, because he was planning on doing exactly that, if only the man would leave. After a moment of half-heartedly trying to call the deer over and being ignored utterly, Taryn headed off again .

This time, he went away from the wall, outwards. He passed the end of the deer pasture, and passed the end of the orchards, and found himself in the clear strip between the Forest and the land tamed by the elves.

Well, he had wanted adventure. And besides, nothing really bad had yet to actually happen, despite the Marquis’ worries. And he had a rucksack with lunch in it, which seemed like a marked improvement over his last trip into the forest and made him feel very prepared.

Entering the Forest gave him the strangest sensation, as though he had taken one step and had traveled a thousand. He looked behind him to see if the fields and orchard were still visible, and found himself surrounded by the Forest’s tall trees, as if he had been walking deeper and deeper all day.

“Oh,” he said. “That was fast.”

“Yeah,” said a high pitched, childish voice. “It gets like that sometimes.”

Taryn looked around wildly. “Hello?”

“Up here. No, other way. Left. You’re other left.”

Up above him on a low branch was a small bluebird. Taryn grinned. This, at least, seemed about right. There were plenty of Faerie stories that had helpful talking birds in them.

“Hi!” Taryn said, waving up at the bird.

“Bye!” the bluebird said. And then it took flight and was gone.

“Ignore the bluebirds,” said a gravelly voice behind and above. Taryn turned and saw a large black bird in another branch. He might've thought it was a crow, except it was so large. “They’ve got brains the size of peas and attention spans to match."

“Ah,” said Taryn.

“Word of advice, kid. Don’t trust the blue jays either. Those ones aren’t stupid, but they are liars. Got all the brains bluebirds lack, and they use ‘em for crime.”

“Yes, sir,” Taryn said. “I’ll remember.”

“Good lad.”

Then the enormous black bird heaved itself up and flew away.

* * * * *

For a time that felt long, but probably wasn’t, the bird was the last creature Taryn found in the Forest. As it had been with the dead man, the wood was unnaturally quiet. No regular bird calls, no chattering squirrels, no movement in the brush. Part of him wanted to sing or whistle or do something to break the silence, but the rest of him had the oddest feeling that that might be rude, and so he kept silent. Without quite knowing how, he found himself on a thin trail-- some kind of deer path, perhaps. And so he followed it in silence and snacked on some of the breakfast pastries Nettle had packed him.

Eventually, though, he did hear something. A rustling in the brush off the trail.

“Hello?” he said.

The rustling grew louder.

“Hello?” Taryn said again, leaving the trail to follow the sound

“Hello yourself,” grumbled a voice from the shrubs.

Around the bend was a deer caught in the bushes, its antlers lost in the leaves and branches. It tried to pull away when it saw him, and Taryn drew back.

“Whoa now,” he said, stepping away. “It’s alright, I won’t--”

“Don’t just stand there,” the deer said. "Make yourself useful and let me out!"

"You can talk?" Taryn said. He didn't know why this should surprise him so much when nothing else did. Maybe it was because the deer looked so normal. It could have been one of the deer at home, the sort he sometimes had for dinner if someone brought it home--

His brain itched at the thought, and he frowned.

When would he ever be able to carry a deer home? He was much too small. And how would he have prepared it? He didn't remember ever--

"Hey! Hey, human! Are you just going to stand there and gawk?"

Memories of stories heard from hunters in the village flashed through his mind. How even a deer that looked dead could still kick out suddenly, or gore a man in its death spasms. Of how territorial bucks got in the fall during the breeding season, and were liable to fight off stray travelers as well as other deer. They’ve got knives on their heads, someone told him once. You don’t mess with anything that’s got knives on its head.

"If I let you go--" he began.

"Oh here it comes," the deer said. "Always the same with you humans. Yeah, fine, whatever. What d'you want, huh? Gold? Is it gold? Treasure? Humans are always asking for treasure. I'm a deer, in case you haven't noticed. You all think I'm made of treasure? Like I even have any of it on me! No pockets, see?"

It wiggled its rump.

"None at all! Nothin'! I don't-- ah, fine. You got me. Fine, I'll get you some treasure after. Whadda you like? Are diamonds good for you? Hope you're not picky on the color, because I'm fresh outta white and only have the yellowy kind left--"

"No!" said Taryn, finally getting a word in. "I don't want diamonds, or treasure, or any of that."

"Ahh, so you're a wishes kinda guy, am I right? Well then that's tough luck, because the only wishes I can grant are little ones like keeping mice away and letting wet matches work. Little charm type stuff, though if that's your bag--"

"I don't want wishes," Taryn said. "I just want you to promise not to kick me or anything once you're loose."

The deer paused.

"Oh. What, seriously? Yeah, okay." The deer shook its head, sending the entire bush shivering. "Cut me loose, and I won't eat you or pummel you to death."

The deer's tone didn't inspire confidence, but if the elves were so bound by their word, then maybe other things in Faerie were too. He crept forward slowly, just in case the deer was faking it and would kick him after all, but it stood there patiently.

Untangling the deer was more difficult than he'd thought it would be; the bush had long, thin thorns that were widely spaced apart, but that managed to prick him whenever he let his guard down.

"Ow!” said the deer. “Watch it!"

"Oh," said Taryn, eyes widening. The twigs he had been trying to untangle were actually fused to the deer's antlers at the base. "Sorry."

The deer harrumphed as Taryn began again, this time more carefully following the path of antlers and whatever was sprouting from them.

After a series of trial and error, Taryn finally move the last branch upwards, disentangling it from the antlers, and the deer was able to wiggle itself free.

The deer shook its head, and some of the coiled twigs loosened and fell off.

"Excellent," it said. Then, it did something Taryn hadn't seen a deer do before, and it raised its back leg and scratched itself like a dog.

"Much better," it said. "Thanks kid. You sure you don't want anything?"

"I’m sure, thank you."

"Eh, well. Good in you for havin' manners." It's mouth opened and widened in a toothy grin, and for the first time since coming to the Forest, a cold shock of real fear pierced Taryn’s heart. The deer's teeth were sharp and jagged and too numerous to fit properly. All looked as though they were meant for tearing meat rather than greenery.

"Well, if you're certain," the deer went on, apparently unaware of Taryn's discomfort, "then I guess I'd better leave you to it. I've got hunting to do anyways; haven't eaten all day! It's getting so even you look good, kid."

The deer winked at him.

"But no worries, no worries. Let me know next time you're in the area. We could grab a bite and I could show you around or something. It's always nice to meet people with manners, you dig?"

Taryn nodded dumbly.

"See ya around!"

And with that, the deer turned and leapt through the brush. This time, it didn't get stuck in anything, and when Taryn went to see where it had gone, it was nowhere in sight.

“I think,” he said softly, “That I would like to leave the Forest now.”

“I’ll show you the way out for some of that bread in your bag,” said a voice above him.

He looked up and saw a small sparrow watching him. Well, the blackbird hadn’t mentioned anything about not trusting sparrows, so Taryn took a piece of bread from his bag and offered it up. The little bird flew down and landed on his hand. In a blur of pecking so fast that Taryn couldn’t even see, the bird devoured the bread in seconds.

“Thanks, kid,” the sparrow said. “Come on, follow me.”

* * * * *

Though he was certain he hadn’t been in the forest long, it was already late afternoon when he finally made it out. By the time he arrived back at the castle, it was just about evening. At the wall, he was greeted by a knight who informed him that the Marquis was looking for him. The knight led him inside and handed him off to a servant, who handed him off to someone else, who led him to the Marquis.

They were in a dining room, though a different one than the one he’d seen before. It was a large room with large, covered windows, thick carpets, and a long table-- though not as ridiculously long as the other dining room’s table-- lined with tall-backed chairs. Seated at the end was the Marquis.

“Sit. Please,” he added, like an afterthought.

Taryn did.

The Marquis said nothing else. The two sat in silence while a flock of servants appeared and began to set the table. Their faces were blank and solemn, and it was only when one got near that Taryn recognized Elm among them. He gave a little wave, hoping for some kind of acknowledgement, but Elm, like the others, didn’t look at him or the Marquis, instead focusing on their work. Food was brought out, and it was only when Elm was piling things onto Taryn’s plate that he turned and gave him a smile and a wink before leaving with the others.

Then it was just him and the Marquis again. The two began eating in silence.

Despite the strange setting and the awkwardness of the silence between them, Taryn couldn't help but feel this was all somehow familiar. Which was odd, because he couldn't clearly remember ever sitting down to dinner with someone. But despite that, there was an aching familiarity to it. Partway through the meal, he realized that he was waiting for the Marquis to ask him what he had done that day.

But the Marquis didn't. He ate quietly and slowly, taking small bites that made Taryn feel like a glutton for scarfing down his food and going for seconds.

Finally, when he could stand the silence no longer, Taryn blurted out, "Can the deer here talk?"

The Marquis paused, his fork in the air, halfway to his mouth. He said nothing, but tilted his head.

"The deer," Taryn said. "The white ones you ride, can they talk?"

There was a small, yet audible click as the Marquis set his fork down. He seemed to be selecting his words carefully.

"If they can," he said finally, "then they have certainly never spoken to me or, to my knowledge, any of my people. Did one speak to you?"

"No, not one of yours." Taryn slouched back in the tall chair and poked at his food. "It was a brown one in the forest."

"And what did the deer say?"

Taryn smiled a little at the memory. "He was funny. He talked funny. He was stuck in the bushes-- his antlers were, and I helped him get out, but his antlers were like bushes, so it was tough. Then he had teeth like a wolf , and that was a little scary. But he said he was going to go find food, and that if I wanted to visit him, he would give me a tour of the forest. He was nice."

The Marquis nodded, like all of this was perfectly usual.

"So this happens a lot?" Taryn said.

"No. I've never heard of any deer hereabouts, whether tamed or in the Forest, ever speaking any tongue comprehensible by the higher races."

He took a dainty sip from his glass.

"Then why are you acting like it's normal?" Taryn said.

"My question in return is why such a small abnormality is the one that you have decided to question," the Marquis said. To Taryn's irritation, there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"What do you mean?" Taryn said. He sat forward and nearly knocked over a pitcher of water.

"Only that with your dealings with corpses, dragons, and terrors of the night, I had begun to assume there was nothing that dwells within this land that would phase you. Why should a speaking deer do what others could not?"

"Because deer aren't supposed to talk!"

"And were this conversation with anyone else, I would have once agreed." The Marquis didn't even hide the amusement now.

Perfect. The first time he actually seems happy, and it's because he's laughing at me.

Taryn scowled and pushed his plate away.

"May I be excused?"

The Marquis nodded. "As you will."

But Taryn had already slid off the chair and started for the door.

* * * * *

The next day, Briar was back, which was a relief. He woke Taryn up in time for breakfast and insisted he wear actual clothes if he was going out again.

“I can’t believe they just let you do that,” Briar groused. “And they didn’t even wake you? I don’t know what he’s thinking--”

Taryn tried not to smile. It felt nice having someone worrying about him..

Briar helped him get ready and, when asked, brought him down to the kitchens. Nettle was busy, as always, but spared the time to pack him a lunch and wish him well on his adventuring. She informed him that there was something special packed in there as well, and that he ought not to eat it until lunch, or else he’d spoiled his appetite. She didn’t say it was, leaving Taryn desperately curious.

“Are you certain you’ll be alright out there?” Briar said. The two were in the courtyard, right before the big gate in the wall that led out beyond the castle. “I’ve been told you can handle yourself, but the Forest is full of dangers--”

“It’s alright,” Taryn said. “If I get lost, I can ask a bird. Not a bluejay, apparently those ones are liars, but the sparrow was helpful.”

Briar gave him a confused look, but didn’t try to stop him when he left, heading for the Forest.

Alright, he thought to himself. Last time, he’d left too soon. He hadn’t even properly adventured! He’d gotten thrown off by the deer. But now he knew: the Forest had talking deer that ate meat. Now, it wasn’t a surprise, and he could go on properly.

The Forest felt like it was waiting for him. That was a strange thought, and he wasn’t sure why it felt that way; it wasn’t as though there was anything waiting for him when he got there, no birds or anything to greet him. All the same, when he entered the wood, he had the strangest feeling that he was expected. Last time, he had wandered around for a while before coming across a deer trail. Today, he found one almost immediately upon entering.

It might’ve been coincidence, but all the same he said, “Thank you,” out loud in case anyone was listening.

Time passed strangely in the forest. In some places, he would look up through the canopy of branches above and see the light blue sky of daylight, or the pale blue-gray of morning. Other times, he'd look up and think it must be night, because the sky would be near black and dotted with stars, but then he'd take a few more paces, and the color of day would return. Some parts of the forest seemed darker as well, with deep shadows and chirping crickets, even with a day sky above them. These, Taryn was quick to leave-- not out of fear, but because he was worried about being rude and waking someone or something up on accident.

And a few times, he encountered what he was certain were meant to be traps.

There was a fruit tree, a lovely tree just a little taller than him, with apples right at his height for picking. The apples looked delicious and ripe and perfect. Too perfect, as though they were crafted to look as perfect as any apple could. And once he noticed that, he noticed how every one of them was the exact same: exact same leaf by the step, exact same size and shape and blush of deep red.

Carefully, he stepped away from the tree. He didn't know if it was the tree itself trying to trick him, or someone who had planted it, and he didn't wait to find out.

Later, he came across a clear place by a stream, perfect for resting. There was a mossy log that looked to be free of rot and bugs, and Taryn gratefully sat down. This seemed as good a time as any to take stock of what Nettle had packed him.

Bread, some cheese, a corked bottle of some kind of juice, and a delicately wrapped dish. HE grinned when he saw what it was: two hearty slices of cake. He had no idea what kind, but it was dark and moist, and he nearly inhaled the first piece with how fast he ate it.

Only after he was already settled and feeling pleasantly full of cake did notice the golden ladle and goblet resting by the stream.

Just looking at them made him thirsty, and he found himself idly wondering what water from the stream might taste like. The water was clear enough to see the smooth stones at the bottom. He bet it was cold. He bet it tasted delicious.

As soon as he had that thought, he turned his head away, resolutely looking away from the ladle and goblet. The thirst was gone immediately, along with any desire to drink from the stream.

Carefully, he repacked his bag, then walked away from the stream.

The third trap was the most obvious of all: a perfectly round ring of mushrooms growing in a patch of sunlight. Butterflies fluttered around the ring, their wings shining brightly in the light, and as he approached, he could swear that he could hear music being played, though he couldn’t describe what kind. When he was less than a yard away, a plate of cookies materialized inside the fairy ring.

“Really,” he said, a little offended. “Really? You think I’d fall for that?”

The plate of cookies vanished, replaced with a pile of gleaming gemstones.

Taryn shook his head, then turned back towards the deer trail.

* * * * *

Some time after the fairy ring, when he was beginning to feel hungry again, he heard a scream.

At first, he thought it was another trick. He'd heard stories about how the more devious creatures of Faerie would cry out for help, then eat anyone kind-hearted enough to try to save them. But then the shout came again, and he knew it was real, the same way he knew the dead man had wanted to be buried, the same way he knew the Forest had been waiting for him. He ran from the trail through the brush, careless of branches or bushes and knowing with that same bone-deep certainty where the screaming was coming from.

"Hey!" he hollered. "Hey!"

"Hey yourself," said a familiar voice.

It was the Deer. He had blood on his muzzle and on the tips of his antlers, and at his feet was a cowering little person trapped beneath one of his hooves. It was some kind of fairy, something human shaped, but tiny-- Taryn could have fit the creature into his rucksack and still had room for lunch. It didn't look hurt, no open wounds or missing limbs that he could see, so whatever blood was on the Deer hadn't come from this particular creature.

"Oh kiddo, it’s you! Long time no see! I'm about to have some lunch." He gestured his head towards the fairy. "Care to join me?"

"Oh," Taryn said. His stomach churned unpleasantly, and the little fairy looked up at him, frightened.

"I don't suppose I could ask you not to?" he said meekly.

"What, and go hungry all day? If you don't want any, you just have to say. Or wait," the Deer blinked. "Do you mean you want it all? I can give you this one and go hunt down another--"

"No! No, thank you," said Taryn. “I-- wait. I think I have something for you.” He crushed own on the dry grass and opened his satchel, bring out the bread, cheese, and the rest of the cake. "Would you rather have some of this instead? It's all fresh. Well, not the cheese, but the bread and cake is."

"Cake?" The Deer's ears twitched forward, like an interested dog. "You have cake? Real cake?"

"Yes," said Taryn. "Do you like cake?"

"I love cake," the Deer said wistfully. "Had it just once. Some baker was making a delivery a little too late at night, if you catch my drift. Got lost. He was good, but the cake he carried-- I've dreamt about cake since then."

"I'll trade you then," said Taryn. "Give me the fairy there, and I'll give you bread, cheese, and cake. That'll fill you up, won't it? And," a thought struck him. "I'll ask the Marquis if he can have someone bring another cake out for you. Not just a slice, but a whole one. That sounds fair, doesn't it?"

"Fair!" the deer cried. "Kid, for that, I'd catch you a hundred of these little guys. Yes, I accept the deal! Here, take him."

The deer grabbed the little fairy between his teeth and hurled him to the ground in front of Taryn. Quickly, Taryn reached down and scooped the little fellow up before the Deer could change his mind.

He needn’t have worried, the Deer had buried its snout into the cake and was devouring it with even more gusto than Taryn had earlier.

“So,” it said between mouthfuls. “About this whole cake you mentioned. . .”

“Can you go to the castle tomorrow?” Taryn said.

“What, where those pointy eared F-- uh. Fellas live? Nah, no can do. They don’t really like me much on account of my, y’know, eating them once in a while. Not my fault they like to go out unarmed after dark, right?”

“Uh. Right. But what if I make them promise not to attack you?”

"Pfft, yeah right. You seem like you're new around here, but those hoity-toity fu-- folks in the castle and villages and all? Can't trust 'em as far as you can throw 'em. You go after one of their precious chickens, or try to see what's up with the b-e-a- ladies they got in the big pen out back, and the next thing you know, they're shooting you full of arrows. Don't just take my word for it! you can ask anyone around here, and I guarantee they gotta story to tell about some stupid elf showin' up and wrecking their day."

"He's not wrong," said the little fairy resting in Taryn's lap.

"See? I was aboutta eat this guy, and he agrees with me."

"Well I know the master of the castle," Taryn said. "And I think he'll listen if I explain it right. I can go talk to him right now and try to arrange a meeting."

"Ha! Good luck, kid," said the Deer. "I'd be shocked, shocked if you pull it off."

Taryn got to his feet. The little fairy crawled onto his shoulder, allowing him to grab his rucksack and head out.

"How about you?" Taryn said as he walked. "Do you have somewhere to go?"

"I do," the fairy man said. "But I wanna see how this plays out."

"I'm going to the castle," Taryn warned. "Aren't you worried about being chased off or something?"

The fairy waved him off. "Nah, they won't even see me. We're tricksy like that. I'll just be hanging out on your shoulder anyway, so as long as you don't get run over by a cart or something, I'm good."

"You said you had a run in with the elves there before, didn't you?"

"Oh yeah, just about everybody's got a problem with those guys. Me and my clan tried to take some grain from one of their silos and got boots thrown at us. Boot! Like we were cats or something! Very insulting."

"Ah."

"I mean, at the very least, it could have been torches and pitchforks, something with pizazz. But no. Boots."

"And are you. . . alright?" Taryn said. "You don't seem injured, but I saw the deer had blood on his mouth. . . "

The fairy waved him off again. "Nah, nah. I'm fine. Just give me another fifteen minutes for my wings to grow back, and I'll be good as new. Can't say the same for the other guy, though."

"Oh."

"Yeah, some schlub mooching in on my turf. I had this great honeycomb staked out, been tending the bees there, got 'em little ribbons to wear and everything. And this bum showed up, trying to steal my whole flock of bees! If that deer hadn't shown up, I would've killed him myself."

"Ah."

"That's life for you, kid. You gotta take care of what's yours, or else some bozo off the street comes in and takes your bees. Remember that."

"I will."

The walk out of the Forest was far shorter than the walk inside had been. Though he was certain he was going the right direction, the deer trail passed through unfamiliar places-- no fairy ring or apple tree or stream this time-- and he found himself at the break in the tree line before the fairy's wings had fully healed back.

"Does the Forest move people around?" Taryn said.

"Yeah," the fairy said. "It likes messing with people."

"Ah."

That seemed like it should be important, but Taryn couldn't quite figure out how just yet, so he ignored it and headed for the castle. As he approached the citadel's outer gate, he saw a group of knights and their white deer. The knights were on foot, hanging around while their deer grazed in the grass of the courtyard.

When he drew closer, he realized that among them was the irritable knight from the other day, the very young knight with the long white scar that cut across his face. If it weren't for the scar, he might not have recognized him; the knight was smiling and laughing with the others, all bigger and older than him by the look of it, and it seemed like they were sharing some joke or story.

For a split second, Taryn's instinct was to avoid them, but that passed and instead he went over. The conversation ceased when he approached, and unlike the villagers and servants, the knights looked at him directly, with expressions ranging from neutral to hostile. The irritable knight glowered at him.

Taryn ignored the others and said to the irritable knight, "Oak, I need to speak with the Marquis."

There was a certain satisfaction to seeing how the knight's face changed. Irritated, then confused, then shocked. He had a very expressive face, and Taryn wondered how he would react if he knew that oak was only part of his name. A long time ago, his friend Casey had told him about how in foreign lands, there were plants called poison oak that made people rash and itch when touched. He'd never seen one, but he always imagined giant oak trees filled with red or black leaves that dripped poison.

"The Marquis is out," (Poison) Oak said.

"He told me before that if I needed him, you'd have a way of contacting him. I need him now. It's important."

Oak looked like he wanted to argue with him. Then he looked to the other knights, who said nothing and whose faces were all blank, and he bit whatever he was about to say down. Instead, he said, "We need to go to the Captain. Or the Seneschal. They're the ones with the devices."

He pushed back Taryn, who scrambled to follow after.

"What's a sen-- sensh-- seness--"

"Seneschal," Oak snapped. He took long strides that Taryn struggled to keep up with. "He's the one who runs the house. Head of all the servants. Surely you've met him by now."

Taryn shook his head. "No, nobody's mentioned--"

Oak cut him off. "Well that's not my business. Come on, the captain is this way."

"Rude fella, iddn't he?" said the fairy on his shoulder. "Want me to trip him? I could trip him real good right now."

"No, Taryn whispered. "Please don't."

As the fairy had said, nobody seemed to notice that he had a little companion on his shoulder, though whether that was because everyone was avoiding looking at him, or because of some magical enchantment was up in the air.

Oak led Taryn through the village within the walls, down the road and through the castle gates proper, but instead of going into the castle, he turned along the wall, stopping eventually at part of the wall that jutted out from the rest in what Taryn realized was a stout, square watchtower built into the wall.

As with the entrance to the chicken field before, there was a false archway that required some kind of enchantment to enter. Oak passed through quickly, and Taryn tried to follow after, but bumped into the wall.

The fairy man laughed. "Was that supposed to happen?"

Taryn scowled and deigned not to answer the question. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and waited for Oak to return.

Now that there was no imminent danger to distract him, Taryn got a better look at his new companion. He was small, about the size of a doll. His skin, which had at first looked brown, was actually lighter than he had thought and tattooed so thoroughly with bark-like lines that made him look darker from a distance. His hair was a haphazard bird's nest of dark greens and browns, making it look as though he had gotten leaves tangled in his hair. His clothes were ratty and mismatched, like they'd been made of scraps of random cloth.

"Hey, what do I call you?" Taryn said.

"Why would you need to call me?" said the fairy. "I'm right here."

"But for later. Or when I'm talking about you with someone else."

"If I'm not there when you're talking about me, then why would I care about what you call me?"

There was something in the fairy's tone that told Taryn he was messing with him. Taryn glared."I'm going to call you something rude if you keep that up."

The fairy shrugged. "Go for it. I'll just curse you with boils or rot your teeth out, or call you bad names in return."

"I'm calling you Lucky," Taryn said.

"That's not rude at all."

"It's because you were lucky not to get eaten by a deer."

"Ah, well. That's a little rude, but fair enough."

"Are you talking to yourself?"

Taryn looked just in time to see Oak stepping out of the arch, scowling at him.

"Where's the Captain?" Taryn said.

"Doing work," said Oak.. "He's far too busy to take time to talk to you, regardless of whatever stupid games you have going on. But he did send the message that you needed the Marquis. And if you are wasting people's time, you can bet that I'll be right there to let the Marquis know whose fault it was--"

"Jeez man, calm your tits," said Lucky.

Once again, Taryn appreciated how expressive Oak's face was. This time the transformation went from haughty, to confused, to stunned as Lucky leapt from Taryn's shoulder -- wings apparently renewed-- and hovered in front of his face.

"You always this sour, or did someone spit in your soup this morning?"

Lucky didn't wait for an answer. He zipped around the air, running circles around Oak before landing on the top of the knight's head.

"Lucky!" Taryn said. "Your wings are back!"

"Yeah, I told ya they'd grow back." He turned on Oak's head and fluttered his delicate looking dragonfly wings, showing them off.

Something about that seemed to have finally snapped Oak out of it. He moved suddenly and shooed the fairy off his head, then lunged for the fairy. "What is this?" he snarled. "What have you brought into the castle grounds?"

"He's my guest!" Taryn said, struck by sudden inspiration.

"Yeah!" said Lucky. "I'm a guest."

"This is madness," said Oak. "I will not tolerate it--"

"Then it's a good thing that you don't have to hang around us," Taryn said. "Come on, Lucky. We can wait inside."

"Right-o," Lucky said. He landed gently on Taryn's shoulder, and the two headed for the castle doors. After a second of angry sputtering, Oak stormed after them.

"I'm not leaving you alone with that degenerate, feral creature," Oak snapped.

"Hey now," said Lucky. "He's just a little kid. That's no way to--"

"I think he meant you," Taryn said.

"Oh. Same to you, pal!" Lucky called back.

"It's from the Forest," Oak snapped. "It's dangerous! It's probably plotting some mischief against you right now--"

"I've been nicer to the kid than you have, " Lucky said. "You're the one probably plotting against him."

Taryn pushed open the castle doors. There were a few members of the staff around the foyer, and they gawked as Taryn, Oak, and the now clearly-visible fairy passed by. Taryn tried to wave and look friendly, even as Lucky and Oak bickered around him, but that only seemed to make things worse.

"Bite your tongue," Oak growled. "As if I would ever sully my honor and the honor of my master by harming his--"

"Blah blah blah, I hear a lotta talk from you mister-tough-guy. Yeah, so tough he bullies a little kid around."

"I'm not-- I didn't bully anyone!"

"You bullied me a little," Taryn said judiciously.

"I am trying to protect you! This creature is the one who will do you harm!"

"You did threaten to curse me with boils and rot my teeth," Taryn said in the effort of fairness.

"Oh come on, whose side are you on? I wasn't actually gonna do it--"

Taryn stifled a grin and tried to remember his way through the castle. Last time, to get to the room he had wanted to get to, he had gone from the art room, which awkwardly meant he had to visit there first.

Past this hall, door on the left. . .

Around him, Lucky and Oak were still arguing over who was a terrible creature of deceit and destruction, and who was not, and neither seemed to notice when Taryn got lost and needed to double back a few times until, finally, he found a familiar set of doors he'd been looking for.

The doors opened easily, which was a relief; he'd been half-afraid that they'd be locked. The Marquis' study looked much as it had the last time he'd been there, except now the fancy desk was clear of papers. He went around to sit in the Marquis' chair and, casually, grabbed Lucky and plopped him onto the desk.

"Oof," said Lucky.

"Wait," said Oak. "What is this?" Oak looked around and seemed to only just realize where they were. "Is this the Marquis's study? You can't bring a Forest creature here!"

"Why not?" Taryn said.

"Because it's the Marquis's study!" Oak said. "The center of his operations, the place where he devises strategies to protect us against incursions of the wild-- like the one you just let into our home!"

"Hey, that's me!" said Lucky proudly. "I'm an incursion!"

"Stop yelling at me!" Taryn said, patience finally worn thin. "You've been nothing but rude to me since we've met! Why don't you go do something useful and leave us alone?"

Oak's face transformed yet again, this time into an enraged purplish-red.

"I," he spat, "Am going to guard the door. When that thing finally attacks you, shout and maybe I'll come in and kill it for you."

He strode out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

"What's his problem?" Lucky said. "He always like that?"

"From what I've seen, yeah," said Taryn. He sat upright in the chair and tried to look Adult and Professional. He had a plan, but it all hinged on the Marquis taking him seriously.

* * * * *

It didn't take long after for the Marquis to arrive.

Taryn heard his footsteps coming down the hall, and heard the muffled words from outside the door-- no doubt Oak complaining and trying to make things look as bad as possible. Taryn fully expected an uphill battle in convincing the Marquis. He took a deep breath and sat up straight as he could, with his hands folded neatly on the desk.

Then the doors opened, and the Marquis came in.

He paused in the doorway for a moment, taking in the sight: Taryn, hopefully looking adult. Lucky, seated on the top of the chair behind Taryn's head. Taryn had no idea what thoughts were going through his mind when he saw Lucky; if he had any strong feelings about the fairy at all, he didn't let it show on his face.

"I was told that you have a very important reason to see me," he said.

"I talked to the Deer again," Taryn said. He paused, waiting for some sort of response.

All the Marquis said was, "Go on."

"He eats people," said Taryn.

"I am aware."

"Not just your people, but Forest people too."

"Can confirm," said Lucky. He got up and flitted around the Marquis. "Hi, I'm here too. You didn't say anything, so I wanted to make sure you knew."

"That's Lucky," Taryn said. "The Deer tried to eat him. I got him to stop by giving him cake."

"I see," said the Marquis. His expression remained neutral as he watched Lucky fly to the top of one of the book shelves and sit down to watch.

"Also," said Taryn. "I promised to ask if I could have a cake sent out to him-- or you can give me the cake and I'll deliver it. But I'd like you to be there too, because I think I have an idea on how to stop him from attacking anyone else."

The Marquis's face was expressionless. Taryn expected him to ask questions, but instead he only said, "Did the Deer have a preference in flavor?"

"He liked whatever Nettle gave me this morning," said Taryn. "Oh, Nettle is--"

"I am aware. I will have the kitchens prepare one. We can deliver it this afternoon. I'll not go into the Forest, nor allow it within the citadel, but we can meet at the border of the Forest.

"Really?" Taryn said. "You'll help me?"

The Marquis gave him a level look. "If there is a chance to prevent future harm done to my people, then yes, I will help you."

"This is great!" Taryn said. "Now I just need to let the Deer know--"

"I'll do it," said Lucky. He got up from the bookshelf and stretched. "I gotta be heading back out anyways."

"Are you sure?" Taryn said. "He almost ate you before."

"Yeah, but that's when my wings were torn off by that schmuck from earlier. They're back now, so's I can just holler at old bone-brain from a safe distance and be on my way."

He zipped down from the shelf and hovered in front of Taryn for a moment. "You're a good kid. I owe you."

And then he zoomed through the air, out the window, and was gone.

Taryn turned to see the Marquis looking at him oddly.

"What?" he said.

The Marquis gave a small, fleeting smile. "Nothing. Of course you brought a creature of the wild into my house. Of course it volunteered to do your bidding. Why would I be surprised? Pardon me, I need a drink."

And he got up and went to pour himself a glass from one of the many bottles.

"What are you drinking?" Taryn said, following.

"Something not for children," said the Marquis.

"Can I have some anyway?"

The Marquis paused. Then, wordlessly passed Taryn the glass he'd filled.

Taryn wrinkled his nose at the smell, but took a sip anyway. After all, if the Marquis liked it so much, then it couldn't be bad, could it? Then he immediately spat it out. The liquid burned.

He coughed and sputtered and allowed the Marquis to take the drink back.

"As I said, it's not for children."

"You can keep it," Taryn said.

The Marquis snorted and finished his glass.

"Alright," he said. "Let's go get a cake."

* * * * *

Nettle didn't complain at all when Taryn and the Marquis asked for another cake, which surprised Taryn a little. When addressing the Marquis, she was strictly polite and blank, the way the house staff was when they were forced to talk to Taryn. He filed this away for later– did Nettle not like the Marquis?

While the cake was being made, Taryn and the Marquis sat at the corner table where he and Elm had waited the other day. After a few minutes, it became clear that the Marquis was both uncomfortable sitting in the kitchen surrounded by so much movement and noise, and also completely comfortable to spend the entire wait not speaking.

"Did you go touch the rocks today?" Taryn said.

"Hmm?"

"The tall rocks. The black ones with points on top. Last time, you went around touching them and doing some kind of elf magic on them. Did you do that today?"

There was a long moment of silence before the Marquis answered, "Yes."

"Why? What do they do?"

The Marquis looked away. "This is neither the time, nor place. Suffice to say, it is one of my duties as lord of the March."

"Oh. Okay." Then, because it was clear the Marquis wasn't going to ask, "I met a talking bird."

There was another, albeit shorter, pause. "Did you now?"

"Yup. A few actually. That was yesterday, I forgot to tell you. One was a blue bird, and I know stories where the birds are good, so I said,'hi', but then he said 'bye' and left me! Then a big black bird– I don't think it was a crow? It looked different than a crow. What's the big big birds that look like crows?"

"Ravens," said the Marquis.

"Yeah! One of those. And he said--"

And so Taryn recounted the last day or so in detail while the Marquis made polite noises of interest until the cake was finished. It was a beautiful cake, decorated with white frosting the morning cake had lacked, with orange frosting flowers at the top. The two watched as the cake was tucked safely inside of a thin box made of some kind of paper-y material. Nettle herself handed the box to the Marquis, who took it gravely.

"It's so pretty!" Taryn said. "How did you do it so fast?"

"Magic," she said. "Will there be anything else, m'lord?"

It was the most neutral Taryn had ever heard from her.

"That will be all," the Marquis said. "Come, child. Let us meet your Deer."

He turned to go, and Taryn got up to follow, but turned to give Nettle one last enthusiastic wave. Her neutral expression cracked. She made a shooing motion, urging him out the door, but she was smiling, so he figured it was alright.

Outside the castle on the steps was a small troupe of knights, including Oak. They all had their armor on-- mostly leather with bits of burnished-red metal.

"They aren't going to attack him, right?" Taryn said. The entire endeavor was going to go up in smoke if one of the knights decided he wanted venison for dinner, and despite their armor and swords an numbers, something told Taryn that if they attacked the Deer close to the Forest, even if they were outside of it, they'd still lose somehow.

"They are merely here as a precaution," the Marquis said. To Oak, specifically, he said, "If something should go awry, grab the boy and run back to the castle."

Taryn knew, just knew Oak was seething inside at that, but on the outside, all he did was nod and say, "Yes, sir."

The Marquis passed off the cake to one of the knights and then gestured for Taryn to go ahead.

"Take the lead," he said. "This is your endeavor."

"Oh. Right."

Taryn looked up at the knights, who were all looking at him blankly. No scowls this time, which was an improvement, but that was probably just because the Marquis was here, and that would be rude somehow. In any case, he took a steadying breath, then marched down the road, leading the group through the village, out past the gates, and towards the border of the forest.

At the border of the Forest, right before they reached the trees, the group stopped. The knight with the cake carefully passed it to Taryn, then took position behind him with the others, leaving Taryn and the Marquis in front.

"I'm here!" Taryn called.

"So are we," called a bluejay above. "You don't see us bragging about it."

"Ignore him," Taryn said quietly. "The raven says all they do is crimes and lie."

"I recall," the Marquis said, equally quiet.

"Heyyyyy, what's up," a familiar voice called out. "That you kid?"

The Deer trotted out of the trees in a place Taryn was certain had been completely empty. It froze when it saw the group he was with.

"Kid, I gotta say, I am not liking the looks of this welcome party." He tilted his head, gesturing to the knights. "What's with the mooks? You gotta posse now?"

"They're here in case you decide to eat me after all. Not my idea."

"Ah, well, fair play then. You are pretty edible looking, not gonna lie to you."

The Marquis put his hand on the hilt of his sword, but did not draw it.

"And who's yer pal?" said the Deer. If he noticed the danger, he didn't act like it. He sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring. "Oh. Oh! You brought him? What's he doing here?"

"These are my lands," the Marquis said. "I am sworn to protect all within them."

The Deer snorted. "'Your lands. Right. You elven knobs all have sky high opinions of yourselves. I've never met a one who doesn't have his entire head shoved up his--"

"I brought cake!" Taryn near-shouted.

The Deer's ears perked up. "Excellent!" he said. "You're a good seed, kid. Don't know how you got tangled with this crowd."

"He kidnapped me."

"Oof, yeah. That'd do it."

Taryn placed the box on the ground and opened the top, exposing the cake. If the Deer felt any compunction about eating food in front of a group of mostly-hostile strangers, he didn't show it at all and buried his snout into the cake. He demolished almost all of it in a few long, awkward minutes.

"How is it?" Taryn said.

"Delicious! Oh man, you know, I normally wouldn't entertain the thought, seeing as how disgusting you all are -- no offense-- but times like this really make me wish I had opposable thumbs, just so I can learn to bake."

"So you really like cake, huh? You know there are lots of kinds."

The Deer stopped eating. "What?"

"There's chocolate cake, fruit cake, cake with candies in it. And if you like cake, there's a fair shot you'll like pie, too."

"Pie?" said the Deer. "I've heard of pie. Is pie like cake?"

"Not quite. Imagine a crispier cake outside, but with fruit, or pudding, or other things inside. They even have meat pies."

"Wow," said the Deer softly. His muzzle was covered in white frosting. With a sudden movement, he dropped to the ground, tucking his legs beneath him so he was half laying, half sitting. He looked up at the Marquis.

"You people really go all out on the cooking thing, ehy?"

The Marquis shrugged, but his eyes were bright, and he watched Taryn carefully.

"How about people?" Taryn said. "You've eaten a lot of them, I gather. Not just elves, but fairies and other forest creatures. Don't they have different flavors?"

"Not really," admitted the Deer. "Raw meat is raw meat. I mean, don't get me wrong, give me two platters, and I can tell which one's which, but as for actual flavor-- well. It's more 'gotta eat to live' than 'live to eat', you know what I mean?"

Taryn nodded sympathetically.

"But you like cake better? Have you tried any other cooked food? Roast meat? Spiced meat? Glazed, dried, barbecued--"

"You can do all that with meat?" the Deer said, awe in his voice.

Taryn nodded solemnly. "And the Marquis has the fanciest kitchens I've ever seen in my life. His chefs make the best food I've ever eaten."

"Alright, what's your angle, kid?" said the Deer. "I've heard enough, just spit it out."

Taryn smiled. "The elves don't like it when you kill their people. You don't like it when the elves try to kill you for killing their people. I don't like anyone getting hurt by anyone. The elves make good food, and you're getting tired of the food you eat. I figured we could make a deal. The elves will give you good food to eat, and then you don't need to eat people anymore."

The Deer's ears went back, then forward again, then he tilted his head. "No shenanigans?" he said. "No poison? I trust you alright, but not them."

The Marquis stepped forward. "I swear on my name and my honor, my staff will provide you with meals untampered, made by the most skillful of my chefs, if you would swear to cease your bedevilment of my people."

"Or any people at all," said Taryn quickly, thinking of the Lucky and his fallen rival. "If you eat the elven food, you won't need to hunt any more."

"What, not even for sport?" said the Deer.

"Not people," Taryn insisted.

The Deer appeared to think about it.

"Kid, you drive a hard bargain, but if it means cake everyday, then I think I'm game for it. I accept your offer. I will no longer hunt any higher-thinking being-- people, that means, kid-- and in return, your Marquis there and his crack team of chefs feed me that delicious elven food, agreed?"

"Agreed," said Taryn.

"Excellent," the Deer said. "So how are we gonna do this? Are you gonna stop by with the grub? Do I meet you somewhere?"

"Oh, uh." Taryn looked to the Marquis. He had been so focused on trying to get everyone to agree, he hadn't quite worked out the logistics.

"Because you have promised to do no harm to my people," the Marquis said. "I will instruct them to do no harm to you. I will have my people deliver the food here three times a day, in the morning, midday, and evening."

"Three meals a day?!" the Deer said. "Three?"

Taryn giggled. "That's how often we eat," he said.

"Good gods, you're just a shrimpy little guy! Where do you put it? Yes, three meals a day is fine." With a grunt and a stretch, he rose back to his feet.

"Okay, well, now that I'm prohibited from hunting people. . . ?" He looked at Taryn, who nodded. "Right. Guess that means I've got some free time on my hooves. I'm gonna go figure out a hobby. Maybe polish up my treasure hoard or something. Seeya around, kiddo! Glad this worked out."

The Deer inclined his head to Taryn, then turned and leapt for the trees. Within seconds, he was gone, nothing left but the mangled remains of the box the cake had come in.

"That went well!" Taryn said. He bent down to get the bits of box; it didn't seem right to leave trash out.

"It did," said the Marquis. "And now it's time to return home. Unless there was anything else. . . ?"

"Uh, no. I don't think so. . . Oh, wait." He held up the pieces of box over his head. "Hey, birds. Any of you want this?"

There was some muttering in the tree, then a large black bird-- raven, he remembered-- swept down. "Sure," it said. "I could use more stuff for the nest."

"Me too," said a little brown bird, joining him. "Can you rip up that piece a little more so I can carry it?"

More birds came down, a few landing on his hair and shoulders as they tried to get a look at the bits of box in his hands. Taryn giggled and started shredding some of the pieces, dropping them to the ground when they were small enough.

The birds stuffed the scraps into their feathers or, if they were larger like the ravel, simply carried pieces away in their beaks. Soon, there was nothing left of the box at all.

"There!" Taryn said. He grinned proudly at the Marquis, who had a strange look in his face again.

"Well done," the Marquis said, a little quietly. Then, louder, "Yes. Well done, indeed. But now it is time for dinner. Come along, child."

The two turned back towards the castle.

As before, the knights didn't speak, but there was something in the quality of the silence that had changed, though Taryn couldn't quite figure out what it was. A few times on the walk back to the castle, he noticed Oak looking at him strangely. He wanted to say, what? but resisted the urge; an argument now, in the middle of a group and with the Marquis right there would have been far too awkward.

As they approached, there was some commotion at the steps of the castle. Taryn and the Marquis exchanged confused looks, then the Marquis strode quickly forward to see what the fuss was about.

On the castle steps stood a group of several tony fairy-creatures. Like Lucky, they were humanoid in shape, but while Lucky looked like a little plant-ish person with wings, these were gnarled, grizzle little creatures, with arms a little too long, features a little too big for their faces. They had no wings, and were also bigger than Lucky, going up to Taryn's knees. Some of them carried buckets and washcloths and brooms. At the door, barring their entrance, were several members of the house staff.

"We got to do our business," said the creature. "Let us in!"

"What is the meaning of this?" the Marquis said. Though he spoke loudly, as though to the creatures, he as looking at Taryn.

"I don't know! Who are you?" Taryn said.

The leader of the creatures looked him up and down. "So you're the kid, huh? We're hobs. We're here to clean your house, so get these bozos out of the way so we can do our work."

"Why are you here to clean?" Taryn said. He didn't ask, what's a bozo?

"Because that idiot dragonfly sent us over."

"Lucky? Why'd lucky send you?"

The hob looked at Taryn like he'd never heard someone ask something so stupid. "Because you saved his life. He saved me a long time ago. He owes you, and we owe him, so he sent us over to clean your house."

"You don't need to do that," Taryn said.

"Oh!" said the hob's face twisted in anger. "What, so cleaning isn't good enough? I'm not worthy enough to clean your room? My life's not worth picking up your dirty socks?"

"What, no!" Taryn said. He looked helplessly to the Marquis, who suddenly coughed and hid his face, clearly and unsuccessfully trying to hide his smile.

"This isn't my house," Taryn said, struck by sudden inspiration.

"What? A'course it is."

"No. This is the Marquis's house. My house is in the human world. It's a little hut with two rooms and a duck farm and chickens and geese, and a little pond and three apple trees--"

"Alright, alright, I hear you. Give us a second to discuss this." The hobs circled up to confer with one another. One of them muttered, loudly enough for Taryn to hear, "fly-brain didn't mention no human world."

"Guess it makes sense," said another. "It's a human, after all."

There was more muttering and mumbling, and the leader of the Hobs turned to Taryn, arms crossed.

"Okay, we'll go take care of your real house. Come on, team, let's go."

He made a gesture, and as one, the little troupe of hobs began marching away with militaristic precision, the leader calling out orders to keep everyone in sync.

Taryn watched them go and sighed, partly from relief and partly from melancholy. He supposed it was nice to know that things back home would be taken care of, but it made him sad to think nobody would be there to appreciate it.

He turned his attention back to the others, and found everyone giving him funny looks except, for once, the Marquis, who was smiling. The first open, genuinely happy looking smile Taryn had seen from him.

"What?" Taryn said. "What now?"

"Nothing," the Marquis said. He schooled his features, but Taryn could feel the smile trying to break out. "The festivities are over, everyone," the Marquis said loudly. "Go about your business."

That seemed to snap whatever spell was holding the crowd. The knights went of and did knightly things, the staff went back to staffly things, and the Marquis said to Taryn, "come along. Let's go meet with the kitchen staff and begin planning meals for your Deer."