Chapter 6: Bug

The early morning chill air kissed Mike’s neck as he stepped into the backyard and shivered. The grass, which had been vibrant and green yesterday, had suddenly taken on a yellow hue. The magic that Amymone was supplying to the grounds had withdrawn significantly overnight as she prepared to go dormant for the winter. Mike walked over to the massive oak tree where the dryad rested with her back against the bark.

“I was starting to think you wouldn’t hibernate for the winter,” he said with a grin. Nestled in the trunk, the dryad lifted her head to reveal tired brown eyes.

“I have to get caught up,” she said, clutching the Kindle she had been reading to her chest like a talisman. “I’m two books behind in this series and the next one comes out in February.”

“Well, that’s true, but couldn’t you just wait and get caught up in the spring? Then you wouldn’t be fighting to stay awake.”

“Pah!” Amymone waved him off and sat up straight in the nook of her tree. “If I have to catch up next year, that’s just two fewer books I’ll get to read this year.”

Mike knelt down and ruffled Amymone’s hair. Some of it fell away from her, the green and yellow curls landing like scattered hay. “Just so you know, there’s a good chance I’m leaving in the next couple of days. If you want me to say a proper goodbye, you should probably be ready for your nap before then.”

Amymone’s eyes popped open wide. “Oh shit,” she whispered, then shrugged him off. “Don’t distract me, then. I want you to be here when I fall asleep, you promised.”

“I did,” he replied. “But a promise only works if we’re both working to fulfill it.”

“Yeah, yeah, save your armchair psychology for the demon when she gets back.” Amymone studied Mike’s outfit. “Are you headed to Oregon today?”

“Yep.” Mike rose and flapped his winter coat like a pair of wings to pump some cool air through it. “It’s a lot colder over there. They don’t have a magical ecosystem run by a beautiful dryad.”

“Don’t let me keep you.” The dryad grinned and looked at something on her e-reader. “I’ve got four hours left in this book and can probably have the next two finished by tomorrow.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” Mike stood and walked around Naia’s fountain, then paused. He tapped the surface of the water, causing the nymph to manifest in a rising surge. Naia stretched dramatically, causing her gown to shift across her breasts and briefly reveal her nipples through the thin fabric. “Question. Does Death know someone messed with his teahouse?”

Naia looked toward the small structure near the back of the yard. After being damaged in the attack over the summer, Death had remodeled the small building just enough that the kids were able to play in it. Now, the thing had been reinforced with planks of wood that made it look like more a hastily-erected clubhouse.

“Death did that with Grace’s help yesterday,” Naia replied. “I think he’s trying to keep her busy now that Tink is in the Library.”

“He’s a great friend.” Mike smiled at the teahouse, then turned away. During this motion, he noticed a spare plank of wood from reinforcing the teahouse had been slapped against the side of his own home. “Um ... why is that there?”

Naia giggled. “There was a chip in the paint,” she replied. “Death tried to fix it and ended up making it worse. So it was just easier to hide the damage with that piece of wood.”

“Tink is gonna kill him,” muttered Mike.

“You are aware who we’re talking about?” Naia grinned at him.

“Perfectly,” Mike replied. “She’ll probably sit down with Jenny and brainstorm how to do it, and then successfully kill him.”

The nymph laughed. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” she asked.

“Yeah, I do.” He leaned over the water enough to give the nymph a kiss, then walked to the small structure shaped like a cabin in the back of his yard. When he unlocked and opened the door, the temperature within was even colder than outside. He stepped inside, made sure the door was shut properly behind him, then opened the door on the opposite wall. The sun was just rising in Oregon as Mike stepped out of the portal building and onto crunching snow. He pulled the edges of his jacket shut as the wind tried to take a bite out of him, then yanked the door closed. It stuck briefly in the frame before the latch finally caught.

A small collection of tents had been set up by the cabin, its exterior decorated with symbols that Mike immediately identified as Nirumbi in origin. A few members of the Nirumbi tribe stood watch around a fire that was being prepped for mealtime. One of the warriors grunted in his direction and relaxed the grip on their spear.

Mike nodded in their direction. “Is Beth home?” he asked. She was expecting him, but he was here far earlier than planned. There was always the chance she had gotten up early and was out doing ... well, Beth things, or whatever needed taking care of.

The Nirumbi gave him a crooked thumbs up, followed by a grin.

“Thanks.” The Nirumbi watched with glittering eyes as he crossed the yard to the porch of the cabin and let himself in through the front door. A fire crackled in the hearth, warming the cabin to a reasonable temperature.

“Master Radley!” Emory fluttered up and landed on a small half wall that separated the front entryway from the kitchen. “Welcome home, sir.”

“It’s just Mike,” he said, but didn’t know if the homunculus would bother listening. “Good morning. Is Beth up yet?”

The imp shrugged. “I have heard rustling in her bedroom and have prepared some coffee, but know better than to wake her unless it’s an emergency.”

“What if I told you it was an emergency?” Mike snatched Emory by the legs before he could fly off. “That was a joke, Emory.”

“My apologies!” The homunculus looked forlorn as Mike set him down.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. Have you made breakfast yet?”

“I was getting ready to.”

“Can you include bacon?” Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver dollar. He handed it to Emory, who accepted the gift with shining eyes.

“Of course,” said the imp breathlessly. He tucked the coin away beneath one arm and fluttered into the kitchen. The homunculus busied himself with a cast iron skillet that he set onto the gas stove. With a click, the gas was ignited. Emory already had a bowl of eggs whipped and ready to be scrambled, but ignored it in favor of going to the fridge to retrieve some bacon first. In minutes, the cabin was filled with the sound and smell of sizzling meat.

The master bedroom door opened and Beth wandered out in a long flannel shirt that terminated at her thighs and nothing else. Her auburn curls were in a tangle, and she ran her fingers through them, before fixing Mike with a look.

“You’re early,” she said.

“And you’re grumpy.” Just by looking at her aura, he could see the fluctuations that indicated irritability. “Rough night?”

“Kind of. Do I smell bacon?” She sniffed the air and smiled. “That smells so good. I thought we were out.”

“I told you we were out so that you wouldn’t ask me to make it.” Emory leaned over the cast iron pan and grabbed the edges of the cooking meat with his fingers and flipped them over.

Beth looked puzzled. “Why would you do that?”

“Because last week, you told me to hide the bacon from you because your ass was getting too big.” Emory looked very proud of himself. “And so I did.”

“When did I say that?” Beth frowned at Mike. “I swear, I’m not worried about my ass size.”

Neither am I, thought Mike.

“It was after you drank two bottles of wine and ate more than a pound of bacon wrapped jalapenos.” Emory coughed into his hand. “All by yourself. In an hour.

“Ah. I see.” Beth sighed. “I may have been ... drunk. I’m surprised you didn’t hide the bread from me, too.”

“You told me to hide the bacon but that if you had to stop eating bread, you’d kill yourself.” Emory suddenly looked worried.

Beth groaned. “That explains why we’ve had bread with every meal. Emory, I was just being silly. I didn’t actually mean those things.”

“Oh.” Emory grinned. “Bigfoot will be pleased that bacon’s back on the menu again. I’ve been making it in secret for him.”

“He knew?” Beth narrowed her eyes. “He should have said something to me about it.”

Emory shrugged. “That explains why he and Asterion thought it was so funny.”

Mike watched Beth’s soul struggle as it shifted back and forth between mirth and anger. Finally, she let out a laugh and rolled her eyes.

“I’ll make them pay later,” she said, then walked into the dining room and pulled a chair out. Just the slight bend forward had caused the flannel shirt to lift and reveal the lower curves of her ass. Unless there was a thong tucked away between those cheeks, Beth had taken a page directly out of Tink’s fashion playbook. She slid onto the seat and gestured toward the other side of the table. “Join me?”

“Gladly.” Mike moved to take the seat across from her. Emory flew over with a pair of mismatched coffee mugs. One was brown with faded filigree along the top. The other was black with a red interior. Beth reached out and switched the mugs with a wink.

“I have my favorites,” she explained, then stood with the black mug and went to the coffee pot. “I assume you want cream in your coffee?”

“A little would be fine,” he replied.

“Only a little? What a pity.” She grinned in his direction and made a dramatic showing of pouring a bunch of cream into her mug. “So your text sounded serious. What did you need to talk about?”

“I’ve got a lead I can chase regarding Tink.”

“How is she?” Beth asked as she poured herself some coffee. She brought the creamer to the table along with the carafe, then went back for her coffee cup. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled the aroma, her eyes half closed in bliss.

“She’s okay, but very restless.” Mike poured himself a tiny bit of cream and then added coffee to it. He took a cautious sip and his eyes went wide. “This is really good!”

“It’s from Hawaii. I only get the good stuff now.” Beth sat down. Over at the stove, Emory hovered nervously by the bacon, getting ready to snatch it from the pan. “So I’m guessing this lead of yours means an away mission?”

“Yep. Dana is still out hunting down the remaining Sons of Sin, which means I need you to watch the house.” Mike frowned. “I don’t know why, but I’ve got this feeling that something is headed our way.”

Beth laughed. “I can explain why that is. Every time you leave your house, some asshole comes along to start drama. The first time I house-sat for you, it was an angel and the apocalypse. A few months ago, it was mercenaries. I think we all know that something is going to happen.”

“In my defense, I put up ‘No Soliciting signs’.” Mike chuckled. “Between those and the lions, we should be good now.”

“As long as we’re prepared.” Beth turned her head to watch Emory pull the bacon from the pan. The homunculus used a rag to wipe out most of the grease and then dumped the whipped eggs right into the skillet. The imp gave the pan a cursory tilt, then hopped over to the toaster and dropped some bread slices into it. “So where are you going? I should remind you not to wear red, it’s bad luck.”

MIke took a deep breath and let it out all at once. Beth turned her attention back toward him. He smiled weakly. “It’s at Machnaimh Abbey.”

“The castle of reflections.” Beth made a face and shivered. The name itself came from how the castle was reflected in the lake. “You must have found a hell of a lead to decide to go back to that miserable place. How long has it been since our trip?”

“Just over a year, I think.” The disastrous visit to Machnaimh wasn’t something that came up in casual conversation. Beth had gone with him for that initial trip, which had transformed into a terror-filled weekend along with some shared trauma. The place was infested with angry spirits in numbers that had boggled the mind. After two days of running from room to room while trying to escape, the spirits had finally allowed them to go.

“Well, at least you’ll be more prepared this time.” Beth shook her head. “The spirits won’t be too happy that they messed with you.”

Mike shrugged, his mind briefly touching the incident with the wraith. Unlike Beth, he had been able to see the spirits while they were there, so half of his issue had been protecting her from harm. Now, if he chose, he could not only protect himself but go on the offensive should the ghosts of Machnaimh push their luck.

“I debated waiting for Jenny to come home so I could take her, but that would be like putting gasoline on a fire. The spirits are angry, but they don’t deserve whatever she would do to them.” He sipped his coffee and chewed at his lip. “Cecilia should go with me for certain. She was a big help when I had to deal with that wraith, and the spirits won’t be able to hurt her.”

“Or possess her.” Beth shivered. “You don’t want to bring anyone who can be taken over.”

“Yeah, that, too.” The spirits had actively tried to possess both of them numerous times. They were both fairly immune to possession, but every attempt had been filled with a sense of foreboding and dread. “I thought about bringing Yuki, but I would feel better knowing she’s here watching the house and Grace.”

“So, what? Just you and Cecilia?” Beth shook her head. “That sounds foolish at best.”

“I thought about bringing Cerberus. They can’t be possessed and won’t be frightened by whatever crap the spirits throw my way.” He meant that both figuratively and literally. “I’m also highly suspicious that there’s a demonic presence in the castle. It would explain why the spirits can’t leave. Cerberus could take care of it while I’m there. It would be way faster than a ouija board and some holy water.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t gone back to the castle already.” Beth smiled. “You’re way stronger now. I’m sure the visit will go better.”

Mike nodded and slumped in his chair. “I’m always so busy,” he said. “When it’s not the end of the world, my attention is getting pulled in every direction. Going back to that castle and trying to figure out its secrets has been so low on my priority list, I just couldn’t be bothered. Honestly, knowing that something there might help Tink is the only reason I’m willing to go back now.”

Beth nodded and sipped her coffee. The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes as Emory wrapped up in the kitchen, then plated their food and brought it to the table. The scrambled eggs held just a hint of smokey flavor from the bacon grease. Mike stacked his eggs onto his buttered toast, added the bacon, then topped it with the other piece of toast to make it into a sandwich. When Beth raised her eyebrows at him, he grinned.

“I am a man of efficiency,” he stated, then took a bite of his meal.

“Some of us like to savor our meals.”

“I have two wives, a bunch of horny roommates, and two children with a third on the way.” Out of habit, Mike slammed down half of his coffee. “I’m busier than a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest.”

Beth chuckled, then a frown crossed her face. “Out of curiosity, have you been spending more time with Sulyvahn?”

“Why? You jealous?” Mike waggled his eyebrows, then saw the look on Beth’s face and realized she was serious. “I’ve noticed him hanging around, but I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had a chance to sit down and check in with him.”

“Interesting.” Beth turned to look out the window. “A couple of days ago, he suddenly insisted that he had extra work to do around the house. He won’t even make time for me.”

“Um...” Mike had already shoved most of the remaining sandwich into his mouth before swallowing it with more coffee. “Did you two have a fight or something?”

“We haven’t. In fact, he’s always just really sweet and we chat about whatever is on our minds when we’re together.” Beth picked up a piece of bacon and split it in half the long way. “His sudden lack of interest raises a few alarms.”

“He’s always just in the front of the house, working the yard. However...” Mike mentally replayed his recent interactions with the dullahan. “Yeah, he has been weird. I feel like he’s just hanging around and waiting for something.”

“Hmm.” Beth tapped the table with her fingers, then chewed on her bacon. She slowly ate her breakfast, then used a napkin to clean butter off her lips when she was done. After a long sip of coffee, she sighed and sat back in her chair. “Let him go with you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I think I may know what’s going on,” she said. “But I can’t go into details.”

“Why not?”

“Because I suspect that you knowing may complicate things. In fact...” Beth looked out the window and smirked. “And there he is.”

Mike leaned forward to look out the window pane. Sulyvahn was currently chatting with a trio of Nirumbi youngsters. They were showing him a ball, which he casually bounced on his knees like a professional soccer player.

“Do I ... have to worry about him?” Mike asked.

“No.” Beth rose and took her plate to the sink. “But I need you to give me some money right now. For lawyer-client confidentiality.”

“What?”

“Don’t ask questions. Let me do my job.” Beth put out her hand. “Think of it as old magic.”

“I ... don’t...” Mike looked at Emory and saw the little imp wince. “Hey, man, can I borrow a dollar from you?”

Emory wilted visibly. “A ... dollar? You want one of my ... dollars?”

“That coin was the only cash I brought.” Mike frowned. “Unless I can just send you money digitally?” He looked at Beth.

“Actually, a silver dollar would be best,” added Beth. “That’s not a clue or anything, Mike. Try not to think about it anymore.”

“I mean, I’m super curious now.”

“Seriously, don’t. Pretend the geas erased that bit of our conversation.”

It took some begging and pleading, but after Mike promised to bring Emory lots of silver dollars in the immediate future, the imp snuck off to one of his treasure troves and brought Mike a silver dollar from the early 1900s. Mike handed it over to Beth, who slipped it into her pocket.

“Perfect,” she said. “I’m going to hold onto it until this whole thing blows over.”

“What whole thing?”

Beth gestured out the window. “Looks like Bigfoot is up.”

Mike turned to the window and watched as a mound of snow rose up and crumbled away to reveal Bigfoot, who had been slumbering near the barn. The moment he stood, a group of Nirumbi children came running out and formed a circle around him. The sasquatch slowly walked over to the fire while they scrambled onto his body.

“What is going on?” asked Mike.

“The tribe has moved some of the more vulnerable members closer to the house,” said Beth. “In case they need additional assistance. Bigfoot has been working with them and promised those children they could have a barn sleepover together if they completed all their tasks last week.”

Bigfoot sat by the fire and patiently waited for all the Nirumbi children to climb off him. An elder emerged from a nearby tent with several wooden stakes, which he handed out to the children. Next, he retrieved a crate of salted meat, which the Nirumbi children eagerly cut into strips. Most of these went onto their sticks, but a few were gobbled up raw.

Ever since the Nirumbi had moved in, Bigfoot had become a bit of a spiritual leader to them. While Beth was capable of bridging the gap between them and the modern world, they wanted very little to do with it. Bigfoot himself was responsible for assisting the tribe with finding means to honor the old ways that were worth keeping while allowing certain traditions, like cannibalism, to die out.

Quetzalli was also very good in this role, but now that winter was here, the dragon far preferred hanging out with her distant cousin, Di. Ever since the two met in Hawaii, they spent the bulk of their time together. Mike had wondered for a long time if Quetzalli had become bored with her life in the Radley house, but she explained that she understood the crippling loneliness Di had suffered. Dragons were typically solitary or social creatures, and the earth dragon was one of the latter who missed her own kind something fierce.

“He’s really good with kids,” said Beth as she pulled her hair forward into an easy braid. “I think he misses having Grace around.”

“She hates the snow. It’s pretty hard to convince her to be cooped up inside the cabin when there are so many options for her at home. He’s always welcome to drop by the house.” Mike knew Bigfoot wasn’t likely to come over. The cryptid was fiercely protective of the lands around the cabin. At least once a week, something nasty tried to sneak its way in and eat some of the creatures who had taken refuge there. The Nirumbi tribes were pretty good at defending the land, but their battles usually came at a cost, and Bigfoot always took those personally.

“Before I leave, I wanted to see if you could help me map Machnaimh Abbey out,” said Mike. “I know we got separated for a bit and I’d really like to have some idea of what I’m going into.”

“Always the boy scout.” Beth gave him a mischievous grin. “I’ve got some paper in my room. Let me go grab it.”

Beth stood and went into her room, stretching her arms up as she walked. Mike got caught up in looking at her ass, then quickly looked back out the window before she found him peeking. Bigfoot was talking to the Nirumbi youth and showing them how to properly cook their food. While the Nirumbi didn’t have any difficulty digesting raw meat, they were very susceptible to parasites.

Emory stood on the window sill, his wings curled around his back and feet as the imp watched. “He has always been good with children. You should have seen him with Lala and Velvet. Those two were quite the handful.”

Mike’s smile was bittersweet. “Did they put him through the paces?”

“Oh, yes.” Emory chuckled, which made a sound like shifting gravel. “When they were teenagers, they were about as strong as he was. They used to challenge him to arm-wrestling matches whenever they got into an argument over something. He used to get so mad when he lost, but I know the truth.”

“Which was?”

Emory sighed. “He would let them win. Those two had plenty of land to roam, but they were trapped. It gave them a sense of control, like their lives were at least partially in their hands. They were ... difficult in their teen years, Velvet more so than Lala.”

Mike shivered. He was already worried about dealing with Callisto as a teen. The centaur was only a few years old and already smarter than some adults he knew. There had been hints of defiance in the child, which was typical. Children arguing with their parents was something that united all families across time and space. That he could handle.

However, the idea of attempting to debate an Arachne teenager who could casually lift a car gave Mike a case of the shivers. He had a feeling Aunt Lala would have to help him with those.

“I remember one time, Bigfoot and Velvet got into a huge argument over something, but she challenged him over it. The two of them locked hands and promptly destroyed the kitchen table.”

“Damn.”

Emory laughed. “They weren’t done, either. They got down on their stomachs and continued on the floor. They ended up cracking the floorboards. If Ana hadn’t tossed them both out, I think they’d still be there.”

Mike looked across the floor, curious if he could spot a board that looked out of place. “So how did they settle their argument?” he asked.

“Bigfoot got very big. When Velvet told him he wasn’t being fair, he picked her up, hiked out to the hot springs, and threw her in.” Emory put a hand to his chest. “She didn’t talk to him for almost a week. Darren and Ana told them that all future arguments would be outside from then on. Bigfoot even brought in a rock they could use.”

“Is the rock still out there?”

Emory shook his head. “It was only a few months before they had another spat and broke that rock. The girls figured out at that point Uncle Foot had been tossing his matches and they just sort of ... stopped. That’s the sad thing about childhood, really. It’s full of firsts, but at least you know them when you see them. It’s the ‘lasts’ that really get you. You never know that you’ve just seen your last silly dance, or heard your last belly laugh. Everything is so...”

The imp went silent, suddenly lost in his thoughts. Beth’s door opened and she came back out, clutching a notepad and some pencils. Mike couldn’t help but notice that the top button of her shirt was now undone. When she sat next to him, her shirt folded out to reveal the ample curves of her breasts.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” Mike grumbled.

“And it’s working.” She handed him a pencil with one hand as the other snaked beneath the table to grab his cock through the top of his pants. “Like I said before, someone else failed to make any time for me. His loss is your gain.”

When Mike looked into Beth’s eyes, it felt like he was staring down a predator. “None of the other men in your life were willing to step up?”

“Bigfoot was babysitting and Asterion left last night to help Ratu. He said something about possessed statues.” As Beth stroked him, he could feel her magic passing through the denim weave of his jeans as if they weren’t there, the energy teasing sensitive flesh. Beth was also drawing a diagram on her piece of paper. “Let’s play a game.”

“I like games.”

“Whoever finishes their diagram first gets to choose how we wreck my bedroom.” Beth lifted an eyebrow. “I’ll let you stick it anywhere you want.”

“I don’t know that we’re going to actually wreck anything,” said Mike. He felt a surge of pressure along his cock and looked down to see that Beth was using her magic to increase the flow of his blood. He grunted as his pants became unbearably tight. “Okay,” he wheezed. “I stand corrected.”

“Yeah, or at least sit.”

He picked up his pencil and noticed that Beth had already drawn most of the outer walls of Machnaimh. Using the edge of her notepad to make clean lines, he grunted quietly as Beth continued to stroke him.

“Giving me the advantage?” she asked, then bit down on her lip. “How gentlemanly of you.”

“Some of us can’t draw straight lines without help.” In fact, he was filled with awe as Beth casually drew her perfect lines, using the pressure from her palm alone to hold her paper in place. She smirked at him and actually drew the edge of the south-facing parapet without looking.

“If only I could have drawn naked people,” she said. “I could have had a career as an artist.”

“You wanted to be an artist?”

Beth snorted. “No, I’m being silly.” She did something with her hand and Mike’s pants undid themselves. “Now lift your butt so I can get those off.”

Mike heard a fluttering sound and caught sight of Emory out of the corner of his eye. The imp had left the kitchen and gone upstairs, likely to be out of the way. Shrugging, he stood up just enough that Beth was able to tug his pants down. Beth’s cool fingers wrapped around his cock and stroked him, causing his magic to boil deep within his belly.

“If you’re going to just let me do whatever I want, you’re going to lose.” Beth turned her attention back to her paper and started filling something in. “So if I remember correctly, we got separated in that large library room, right?”

“Uh ... yeah.” Mike closed his eyes and savored the feel of her hand on his cock. “The one with the rotating bookshelf.”

“I was a little surprised you didn’t come after me when I fell into that secret passageway.”

“That’s because I was busy getting attacked by moldy books and didn’t see you fall in.” Mike looked at Beth’s drawing and copied the library room in the same place. Concentrating on the task at hand, he drew the long hallway that led to it and then the double stairwell just inside the entrance of that part of Machnaimh. The castle itself was a rectangular structure toward the back of a circular wall, but most of the wall had crumbled over the years. An entire portion of the northern face of the building had weathered poorly, allowing rain and wind to casually flow through the rest. However, the interior was still in pretty good shape in regards to structure. Mike suspected part of that was due to the spirits who resided there.

The residents were also the reason they couldn’t open a portal directly there. With every attempt, the spirits either chased the rats off or destroyed the portal afterward. The island wasn’t much bigger than the castle, which meant there was nowhere safe nearby. When Mike did leave for Machnaimh, he would portal in as close as he could. Most of the land around the lake had been bought up decades ago and was now protected by the government as a natural area. The rest was generational farmland, and none of the families involved had been interested in letting Mike buy or rent a small parcel of land to establish a dock.

To Mike, Machnaimh was a place where anything that could go wrong simply did. He couldn’t casually visit. The ghosts didn’t like him. Renting a boat was out of the question because the locals would tell everyone. The last thing he needed was for the Order to show up, or gods forbid, the government. They weren’t super happy with his ownership, either, since he wasn’t fixing the place up. He had intended to, but didn’t think a work crew would take kindly to being murdered.