Beginning Book 8: Head and Shoulders
Mike Radley was taking a nap in his favorite recliner when he felt a faint pulse of danger somewhere in his house. His eyes snapped open and he leveled his gaze at the window, wondering if the sense had been triggered by an intruder in his home. The odds were essentially impossible that a stranger could somehow bypass the magical wards on his home and then sneak past the centaurs who were constantly maintaining his ever expanding front yard, but he had learned long ago that the word impossible was largely meaningless in regards to him or his magical home.
“What’s wrong?” Kisa asked, opening her eyes to look at him. The catgirl had fallen asleep in his lap and was now sitting up, her green eyes scanning the office.
“Not sure yet.” He rose to stand, and his familiar hopped off him effortlessly, her padded feet hitting the wooden floor without making a sound. The two of them were alone and the house was unusually quiet. Mike moved to the window to look outside. It was mid-October and his front yard was a mosaic of red and yellow. What few leaves had already fallen on the ground had been raked into small piles that would be turned into compost and tilled into the soil come spring. “Vague feeling that something bad happened.”
“Inside or out?” she asked.
Mike shrugged. “Not sure yet, but I—”
That tiny pulse hit him again, the one that said he was in danger. Precognition was one of many gifts that had been bequeathed to him upon inheriting the house, which had been further strengthened by swapping souls with a cyclops. Still, it had its limitations. Whatever was happening could potentially harm or even kill him, but usually the danger was extremely obvious.
“Ooh, I felt that one.” As his familiar, Kisa was linked to Mike in a way that let her feel many of the things that he did. She yawned and stretched, then walked toward the door. “Where is everybody?”
“I don’t know, but—”
Mike was interrupted by the sound of slamming doors, followed by thudding footsteps. Moments later, his son Callisto came galloping into the living room, his hooves scratching up the wooden floors. Upon seeing his father, Callisto’s eyes grew wide and he slipped, his legs sprawling out beneath him as he slid across the floor and came to a stop at Mike’s feet.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet.
“For what?” asked Mike. He looked up to see Grace come scrambling into the room as well, only she was on the ceiling. The little Arachne dropped down from above and skittered across the floor to her brother.
“Bad news,” she said, pointing back toward the dining room.
“Bad how?” Mike looked to his son for answers.
“Um…” Callisto closed his eyes and winced. “We made a poor decision today.”
There was a loud bang from the kitchen, followed by the sound of pots and pans being scattered across the floor. Mike and Kisa exchanged uneasy glances, then looked down at the children for answers.
“What did you do?” asked Mike.
“We opened the Vault.”
“Fuck.” Mike stepped over his children and walked toward the dining room. “Kisa, see if Yuki is in her room. I’ll need her help.”
“On it.” The catgirl raced up the stairs, followed by Grace. Callisto struggled to get his legs beneath him, his hooves further scratching the wooden floor. He had lost the rubber caps that he had been wearing earlier, most likely in his mad scramble up the stairs.
“Why the hell were you two downstairs messing with the Vault?” demanded Mike as he looked into the dining room. It contained the largest table he had ever seen along with a couple of dozen wooden chairs. So far, whatever was happening in the kitchen hadn’t spread to the dining room.
“Um…we were curious.” Callisto fidgeted with his hands.
“Try again,” asked Mike. “You’ve been warned several times that the Vault is the most dangerous place in the house.”
“That’s why we were curious.”
“Gods damn it,” muttered Mike. “How did you even get the door open?”
“Grace figured it out.” Callisto said something else, but the sudden slamming of cookware in the kitchen drowned him out.
Mike looked over his shoulder to see that his son had backed into the office.
The Vault was a magically sealed room that contained dangerous magical artifacts. Over the last couple of years, Ratu, the naga, had taken it upon herself to destroy or dismantle several of them. Strangely enough, no matter how many objects they pulled from the room, it always seemed like more appeared. Every time the Vault was opened, something tried to escape and today was apparently no exception.
“Go back to the centaur village,” Mike said. “Tell your mom that you opened the Vault and to punish you appropriately.”
Callisto’s face went white, and he coughed into his hand. “Well, I mean, this is a house matter, and my mother probably doesn’t—”
Something in the kitchen let out a shriek reminiscent of a low flying fighter jet. By the time the sound had passed, Callisto had yanked open the front door and was already halfway across the lawn to the portal.
“Damn kids,” Mike muttered, then went to close the door. As he did, the spectral figure of a woman in white poked her head through the wooden door, a large smile on her face as she phased through it.
“Grá mo Chroí,” Cecilia said by way of greeting. “Do you need my help?”
“I do.” Mike stepped aside so the banshee could enter the house properly. “You don’t happen to see what’s in there, do you?”
The banshee nodded. Her eyes were white, as if they had frosted over with ice long ago. Even though she was blind to the world as others saw it, the one thing she could see was souls of any kind, which included malevolent spirits. She tilted her head to one side, then bit her lip in frustration.
“And?” Mike asked.
“It’s not good,” she replied, floating toward the dining room. “I can’t tell if I’m looking at one thing or many. It’s disjointed.”
“Great, I was hoping to—” Mike grabbed his ears as the shrieking noise resonated throughout the whole house. Upstairs, he heard shouting, followed by stomping feet. “Sounds like the cavalry is coming.”
The footsteps took an inordinately long amount of time before their owners appeared. Grace and Kisa appeared on the landing first, the catgirl with a chagrined look on her face.
“Don’t tell me,” said Mike just as Tink waddled into view. The little goblin was huffing and puffing as she descended the stairs, one hand on her belly and the other clutching a ball peen hammer. When she spotted Mike from the landing, she gave him a sweet smile.
“You’re supposed to be in bed,” he declared. “Doctor’s orders.” Naia, Zel, and Ratu had all declared that Tink’s pregnancy was high risk and that she needed to be on bed rest for the last few weeks. Naturally, the goblin had blown them all off.
“Fuck doctors,” Tink said, then held up the hammer. “Baby legs say big monster need squish!”
“You couldn’t find anybody else?” Mike asked Kisa.
She shook her head. “Nobody else is home and Grace went right to her.”
“Where is everybody?”
“Dana and Lily are off hunting down mercenaries with Jenny. Yuki is apparently at the store buying paint. Eulalie is in the Library, and…” Kisa scrunched up her face. “You know what? You’ve got access to the family calendar on your phone. I’m not about to list off everyone who lives here and what they’re doing.”
“That’s fair.” Mike sighed at the goblin. “I don’t suppose I could ask you to go outside and get Abella for me?”
Tink blew a raspberry at him. He turned to Cecilia, who nodded and floated up through the ceiling. At least someone here would listen to him. Typically, Tink did whatever he asked her to, which wasn’t very much. However, when it came to the children, she would drop everything if it meant making them happy or protecting them. He still wasn’t entirely certain how Tink conned Amymone the dryad into allowing the goblin to build a treehouse in her tree.
“Alright, well…Tink, let me go first. You stay back with Kisa and make sure nothing gets by me to Grace, okay?”
Tink made a sound of disgust. “Fine,” she replied. “But husband miss monster, then Tink smash with hammer.” She turned to Grace. “Baby legs wait here, Tink take care of monster for you.”
Mike sighed, then turned his attention back to the dining room. The screeching sounds in the kitchen had grown louder. Whatever was in there was either going to come around the corner or break through the window and escape into the backyard. The magical geas around his home would keep his neighbors from hearing, but it wouldn’t stop them from seeing it on the off chance that it scaled the stone walls around his home and left the geas behind. The world was already on edge with magical conspiracy theories after the major event that had been Maui, and he didn’t need any of that attention on his property.
He moved quietly through the dining room, wary of what he may find. When he got to the door that led him to the kitchen, he took a deep breath and stepped through. Several of the cabinets were now open, and the refrigerator was missing its door. Food had been pulled off the shelves and a jug of milk was slowly draining its contents onto his floor.
“Hey, there. My name is Mike Radley, and I’m the Caretaker of this house.” He crossed his arms and studied the room. There was a swirl of dark magic clinging to the countertops, and he could sense the presence of a being just on the other side. Something hissed at him and he let out a dramatic sigh. “One of my children is half-spider. If you want to intimidate me, I’m going to need something far more substantial.”
“Yeah, that’s just great,” Kisa muttered from behind him. “Why not just ask it to jump out and rip off your face?”
“Because I like this face.” Mike stroked his chin. “I guess you could say I’m attached to it.”
Kisa kicked him in the shins. Tink chortled with glee, then held up her hammer.
“Tink smash?” she asked.
“Not yet.” Mike scanned the kitchen, hoping to spot the source of the noise. “Seriously, we know you’re down there and you’ve made a mess. At least come out where we can see you.”
A humanoid head with holes where its eyes should have been appeared just behind the counter. It rose and placed gnarled fingers with elongated nails on the counter, rising up to reveal a vaguely feminine form covered in scales.
“A naga?” asked Kisa.
“Definitely not,” Mike replied. This creature didn’t have a soul, at least not one he was familiar with. Where most living beings would have some sort of shimmering mass that he could see, this one’s essence was more like a cloud of gnats. That usually meant it was some sort of construct, or a summoned being.
“Ooh, Tink recognize. Nasty statue from back of Vault, in crate with blankets.”
“That’s clearly not a statue.” Mike looked at the creature just as a thick musk hit his nose. He pinched his nostrils shut and waved the other hand across his nose. “She’s got a funk.”
The creature unhinged its jaw and opened it. The skin around her chin stretched and distorted as a pair of massive fangs came into view, her face unfolding in a way that reminded Mike of the alien from Predator.
“Yeah, definitely not a naga,” he said. “But we should avoid killing her until we know her story.”
“I swear to the gods, if you end up fucking her…” Kisa muttered from right behind her.
“I don’t fuck everything I come across,” Mike protested. The monster hissed at them and he held up a finger to shush it. “Hold on a moment. We’ll be with you in a second.”
“It’s got tits,” said Kisa. “That’s the deciding factor. Once you see it has tits, your dick ends up inside it.”
“Where is this even coming from?” Mike felt a river of ice flow through his veins, and he raised his arm and sent a blast of magical lightning at the beast just as it leapt at them. The snake-woman flew back across the kitchen and slammed into the cupboards, ripping several of their doors free. “You’re not jealous. I would be able to tell through our bond. Are you just fucking with me?”
Tink groaned. “Husband and kitty cat pay better attention, snake face get away.”
Mike turned his attention toward the snake, who was currently halfway out a window she had opened. Sighing, he moved behind her and grabbed her by the tail.
“I don’t think so,” he said as he pulled. The snake-woman thrashed around, making it hard to hold onto her tail, so Tink and Kisa grabbed on, too. Mike really didn’t like how close this thing’s tail was to Tink’s belly, but arguing with her would probably result in a goblin bite. The snake-woman hissed and fought, then froze when a heavy mass dropped down from above. Abella rose from her crouch with a snarl frozen on her face.
“A little help?” Mike said.
Abella grabbed the snake-woman by the head and yanked her through the window as Mike and the others let go. The creature snarled and lashed out, but her fangs and claws were useless against the gargoyle’s stone flesh.
“Contain her,” Mike said, leaning out the window. “She came from somewhere in the Vault.”
“Understood.” Abella head-butted the snake-woman, sending her down into the dirt. She grabbed the tip of the creature’s tail and dragged it toward the massive oak tree sitting next to an intricately designed water fountain which was being used by dozens of birds as a bath. She threw the snake-woman at the tree. “The Caretaker wants us to hold her.”
A dryad hanging from a hammock made of vines dropped down from the boughs, her eyes locked onto the pages of a book. She leaned toward the trunk of the tree and gave it a playful smack. Large roots ripped free of the soil and wrapped themselves around the creature. After marking her place with a leaf, Amymone looked up at what she had just captured.
“Any ideas what that is?” asked Mike, leaning out the window.
“A lamia.” Amymone almost looked disappointed. “Or a facsimile of one, anyway. They can be quite nasty.”
“I thought lamia were supposed to be more…” Mike realized he was about to say sexy, but kept it to himself. “Um, friendly?”
“You watch too much anime.” The dryad was once more engrossed in her novel. “Besides, you don’t have enough time for all the women in your life anyway. Stop finding new ones to bring home.”
“This one was already in my home,” he protested, then heard the squeak of the basement door. He turned his attention to Tink, who was cautiously stepping into the dark stairwell. “Absolutely not,” he said.
“Tink not afraid.” The goblin smacked the doorframe with her hammer for emphasis.
“But I am.” Mike walked over to Tink and held out his hand for the weapon. “I know you’re tough and up for anything, but I won’t be able to concentrate if I think something down there will hurt you or the baby.”
Tink scowled and handed him the hammer. “Stupid fucking Vault,” she muttered as she waddled toward the door. “Tink go lay down!” she declared loudly. “Bed rest only, ‘cause fucking pregnant!”
Mike and Kisa watched the goblin go. They heard her stomping up the steps, swearing the entire time. Once he knew she was out of earshot, Mike looked at Kisa.
“Hey, I tried to keep her in the dark, but Grace went straight to her.” Kisa stuck out her tongue. “So do you want to argue about it or do you want to go see what else escaped from the Vault?”
Mike groaned, then looked back outside. The lamia was hissing and shouting in a language that he didn’t recognize but Amymone apparently did. The dryad scowled at the lamia, then looked at Mike.
“What’s she saying?” he asked, leaning out the window to better hear the answer.
“The usual bad guy stuff. She wants to rip your arms from your body and, uh…” Amymone frowned. “Some stuff about the kids, Tink, and the, um, baby.”
A twinge of unbridled rage built in Mike’s chest, but he never got a chance to act on it. Abella, who was still nearby, spun around and used her wide tail to crack the lamia in the head. The creature went limp on the ground.
“Is she dead?” he asked.
“No,” replied Amymone. “I can feel her breathing through my roots.”
“What a pity.” Abella stared daggers at the lamia, then looked at Mike. “If you want, I can crush her.”
“Maybe later,” he said. “Let me figure out what’s going on in the basement first.”
The gargoyle nodded, then wrapped her wings around her body until they resembled a cloak. She went perfectly still, looking very much like an old statue.
Mike turned his attention toward the mess in the kitchen, then to the opening across from the cabinets. The basement door had been ripped free of its hinges and was lying on the floor.
“What are the odds we can keep Tink from spending all afternoon fixing this?” he asked.
“You can be the one to tell her,” said Kisa. The catgirl went ahead of Mike, the air shimmering around her until she was nearly invisible to him. Their magical link meant he could sense her presence, but for anyone else, it would be virtually impossible to see her. Even if a being possessed the ability to see through the magical aura that kept her hidden from sight, Kisa’s innate magic also meant that living creatures simply forgot she was there.
Stairs are clear, said Kisa through their link. Mike followed after her, traipsing carefully down the concrete steps. The basement was easily the smallest floor of the house, if one didn’t take into account the interdimensional Vault that was attached to it. They had a few freezers for food storage, a side room that had been converted into a small supply space for anything Tink used for repairs, and then a flat space along the wall where the Vault door was. Today, the doorway was bigger than usual, the chalk lines drawn from floor to ceiling. Kisa was crouched down near the entrance, her ears twitching as she stared into the space beyond.
“The natives are restless,” she said, then looked up at him. “Unusually so.”
He felt a cold chill on the back of his neck and turned to see Cecilia. The banshee had drifted down through the ceiling, a whimsical smile on her face.
“Kisa says we’ve got a lot of activity in there today.” He gestured to the opening. “So keep your wits about you.”
Cecilia winked and then faded out. He could feel her touch along the back of his neck, the specter caressing his skin. Mike put his hands in his pockets in an attempt to look casual and stepped into the Vault.
“Alright, you all know the drill.” He addressed the items in the room, many of which were no longer on their shelves. On the floor was a broken statue, the one that the lamia had probably been trapped inside. “I’m going to do a quick sweep and put everything back where it needs to be. Fighting me is just going to be a waste of my time, and will move you up my shit list. If I have to toss you into a volcano to make my point, well, I have one of those now.”
The room exploded with the sound of muttering and cacophonous whispers. With his magical senses active, Mike could see the spirits emerging from their vessels. He was well aware that none of them would comply, their earlier silence an attempt to lure him into a false sense of security.
Spectral hands reached for him. A magical tempest swirled around his feet, then lifted up to nip at the skin of his arms. The eerie sound of children’s laughter echoed across the room, causing Kisa to back out of the Vault, leaving Mike behind to fend for himself .
Mike’s magic spread through his body, his fingertips tingling with power. The magical wind that tried to tear away his flesh was repulsed by streamers of electricity that leapt from his skin. Golden motes of light formed in the air, flickering like glitter caught in a spotlight.
“Quiet,” he demanded, his magic spreading away from him like a wave. The room immediately went silent as the spirits fled to the safety of their vessels. Wild magic obeyed, sinking back inside innocuous household objects. Mike shook his head and stepped further into the room.
Kisa came in behind him. “Is it safe for me?” she asked.
“Should be,” he replied.
“Have I told you how much I love your big daddy voice?”
“Several times,” he replied. After the fight in Hawaii, Mike had noticed on occasion that he could make a one word command that the world around him would attempt to obey. Pele had explained to him that he had started on the path of ascension, or apotheosis, depending on what he wanted to believe. In short, Mike possessed enough divinity that he was the modern day version of a demi-god.
In truth, he wasn’t certain how he felt about that. It certainly wasn’t something he wanted. After much discussion about it with the others, he believed the catalyst for the process had been a threesome he once participated in with Yuki and the goddess Freya. Or perhaps that time his soul had spent eternity in a gangbang involving Titania, the Queen of the Fae. Or perhaps even the fact that he had swapped soul pieces with both a naga and a kitsune, both of whom were already on the path.
Yeah, actually, there were lots of theories about how he had gotten where he was. Most of them were pretty solid, but they essentially came down to the fact that he had fucked a lot of sexy magical women to get there, which was the American dream, after all.
Cecilia emerged from her hiding place and helped keep watch as Mike and Kisa spent the next hour restoring the Vault to its previous condition. On at least three occasions, something tried to sneak out, but Cecilia spotted the escapees long before they could get away. Mike picked up an autographed baseball and was immediately assaulted by a demonic presence that tried to wrestle away control of his body. Unfortunately for the demon, it promptly ran into the conglomerate of consciousnesses that lived in his soul. Every woman he had swapped soul pieces with existed there, which meant the demon ran into an ambush and was promptly torn apart. Mike chuckled and tossed the ball in the air as it turned to ash, the surface flaking away.
“What do you have there?” asked Kisa.
“Nothing now.” By the time the ball hit the ground, it was little more than dust. “But I did just save a trip to the volcano.”
“Didn’t Pele tell you she didn’t want you throwing all your trash in there?”
Mike chuckled. “Specifically, trash is off limits. Enemies and junk mail are fair game.”
“Junk mail?” Kisa frowned at him. “That’s oddly specific.”
“I thought so, too. Apparently, if we throw enough in from one sender, she can burn them in their dreams or something.” He shrugged. “It’s not like I get junkmail anyway. The geas keeps us off of those mailing lists.”
“Yet another small blessing.” Kisa reached for a fork that had fallen behind one of the shelves and immediately retracted her hand. “Danger sense activated on this one.”
“Let me see.” Mike reached for the fork and snatched his hand back when it immediately came to life and tried to stab him. The cutlery made a mad sprint for the door, but Cecilia was waiting to scoop it up. Once it was in her hands, the fork sprang away and tried to stab her in the eye. It passed harmlessly through the banshee and into the basement.
The cutlery turned around and flexed its tines, ready to leap at the banshee again. Mike made a finger gun and blasted it with electrical energy, which sent it skittering across the concrete floor.
“There’s always one,” muttered Kisa as she ran over to collect it. “I wish Ratu had been able to break these all down.”
“Yeah, but that would mean releasing their spirits.” Mike held his hand out for the fork and took it from Kisa. While many of the dangerous objects in the Vault had been identified and broken down, the ones possessed by various entities were the exception. Those required far more care and there often wasn’t an easy solution, which meant they remained in the Vault. “We don’t quite have an answer for that yet.”
“And the ones who are here are too powerful to be forced to move on,” Cecilia added. “Or have nowhere to move on to.”
Mike nodded, then put the fork back in a small chest that contained the rest of the silverware set. The demonic entity in the baseball had likely fallen apart, or gone back to Hell if it was from there. Cecilia and her dullahan brother Sulyvahn were both psychopomps tasked with ensuring spirits made it to the afterlife. The things in this room were capable of putting up quite a fight, which meant they were in a stalemate. The rest were destined for true oblivion. Mike wasn’t quite ready to be the arbitrator of such a fate.
However, now that his kids had broken into the Vault and been attacked, the idea suddenly felt more appealing. “So what do we do now?” Mike asked, kneeling down to pick up the lamia’s statue. It was only eight inches tall, and looked like a vase with a snake wrapped around the outside. “I don’t suppose we can squeeze her back inside?”
“Abella would be happy to try,” Kisa offered.
“Let’s pass for now.” Mike did a quick visual sweep of the Vault. The room was long and narrow today, its features constantly shifting when locked away. There was a good chance that hundreds of objects were still stored away in here but had simply never revealed themselves. Nobody was entirely certain how the Vault itself worked. While part of the house, the room was an addition from somewhere else.
Once Kisa and Mike were outside the room, he sealed the Vault. The concrete unfolded itself like a massive piece of origami, the wall becoming smooth once more. Mike's magic formed into a spider made of lightning that crawled around the chalk perimeter, incinerating the fine powder into nothingness. The air was filled with the scent of ozone as they left the basement and the Vault behind.
Back upstairs, Mike sent Kisa to check on Tink while he went out back. The lamia was awake again, its dark eyes on him as he walked past the decorative topiary to get to the base of Amymone’s tree.
“It’s about time.” Amymone stuck a leaf in her book and descended from her vine hammock. “This thing has been growling about you all day.”
“Sorry, the Vault was a bit of a mess.” Mike crossed his arms and stared at the lamia. “What are the odds our new friend here has seen the error of her ways and wants to play nice?”
The lamia hissed, then spat out a series of words. Amymone scrunched up her forehead, then looked at Mike with wide eyes.
“She’s making some very interesting suggestions about your anatomy.” Amymone winced when the lamia spoke again. “Specifically your asshole.”
“Yeah, some people are pretty sensitive about butt stuff.” Mike crouched down so that he was nearly eye level with the lamia. “I know a woman who would see your suggestions as a personal challenge.”
Naia snorted over in her fountain.
“Even Beth wouldn’t stick her head up her own ass and eat her way through…” Amymone shook her head. “Nevermind, it’s not worth saying out loud. I’m afraid this isn’t going to be one of those times where we all become close friends.”
Mike shrugged. “Yeah, well, no hard feelings.” He held up the statue, which caused the lamia to panic and struggle against her bonds. “She came out of this thing. Any ideas?”
“I’ve already sent word to Ratu,” said Naia. “Via messenger fairy. If anyone can help you with that thing, it is her.”
“And she’s not here yet?” Mike frowned. It wasn’t like Ratu to hole up in her Labyrinth like this anymore. In recent weeks, she could be spotted lounging around the house nearly every day. One of her favorite spots was in a sunbeam in the small library next to his office. She and Kisa sometimes fought to be the first one there on a sunny day.
Naia shook her head, her cerulean curls bouncing across her shoulders. “She isn’t. I sent Carmine first, and when she didn’t come back, I sent Cerulea next. I just sent Olivia, so I’m not certain what they’re doing.”
The fairy trio were typically reliable, but there was always a chance that they got distracted along the way. They had once disappeared for two days because they had somehow gotten themselves sealed inside a mostly empty peanut butter jar. Nobody knew where the jar had come from and the fairies refused to talk about why they had gone inside of it, but their sister Daisy had informed Mike later that the whole thing had started as a really stupid dare.
“I’ll give her ten more minutes, then go get her myself.” Mike held up the statue pieces. “Unless you can just go back in here?”
At the sight of the statue, the lamia trembled, then shouted some more stuff. A vine wrapped around her mouth, silencing the creature.
“I prefer to wait in polite company,” said Amymone, who promptly took the leaf out of her book and resumed reading. The dryad dangled a hand from her hammock and made lazy circles with her finger. “Besides, I want to finish this book before I have to sleep for the winter.”
“I’m surprised you aren’t asleep already.” Mike moved next to the tree and placed his hands against the bark. “Is the geas keeping your tree awake?”
Amymone nodded. “It’s the magical micro-climate. At the first sign of snow, I’ll drop the rest of my leaves and take a nap. The centaurs have promised me quite the feast in spring.” She looked away from her book and winked. “You’ll need to set aside a whole day for the first day of Spring, by the way.”
Mike’s cock twitched in his pants. “I’ve already got it on my calendar,” he said.
“You’d better.” The dryad yawned, then turned the page. “Now if you’ll excuse me, this dragonrider isn’t going to get fucked by herself.”
“What on earth are you reading?” Mike tilted his head to catch the title of the book, but was distracted by the sound of the back door opening. Ratu the naga stepped into the backyard, her raven hair catching the sun’s light and giving it the appearance of freshly knapped obsidian. “Oh, there you are.”
“Yes. Here I am.” Ratu reached into the sleeves of her robes and pulled out three exhausted fairies. “I caught these little troublemakers in Opal’s tank. They’re lucky they didn’t drown.” She set the fairies on the rim of Naia’s fountain. Mike could see from the looks on their faces that they were exhausted.
Naia gave the fairies a disapproving look, then blasted them with some water. The pink and purple goo clinging to their bodies was washed away in seconds. Cerulea, Carmine, and Olivia protested loudly, clinging to the concrete with tiny fingers.
“They’re not tired,” Naia said with a twinkle in her eye. “But they are very, very full.”
Mike laughed. “I’m guessing Opal wore them out.” The slime girl fed off of sexual fluids much like the fairies did, but Opal was well known for her ability to extract these fluids directly from the source. It was likely that a feedback loop had been established. The fairies sexual fluids would have been little more than a snack for Opal, but she could easily provide them with an entire meal.
“Useless bugs,” Ratu muttered, but her lip curled into a grin. The smile vanished when she saw the lamia struggling beneath the tree. “And where did you find this abomination?” she asked.
“I take it you’re not a fan?” Mike asked.
“Hardly.” Ratu glared at the lamia. “This being is a mockery at best. Lamia are dangerous things, cobbled together with dark magic and the souls of broken women. Their preferred prey is children.”
“So we kill her, then.” Abella lifted a foot over the lamia’s head.
“Maybe. Where did she come from?”
“She was inside this in the Vault.” Mike picked up the broken statue and handed it to Ratu. The naga studied the statue, then put it back together and let her magical aura wash over it. Her face twisted up a few times, then she looked up at the lamia. She handed the statue back to Mike and knelt down in front of the creature.
“Where did you come from?” Ratu lifted the lamia’s chin as the roots withdrew. The lamia snapped at Ratu’s fingers, then cried out when they blazed with fire and burned her mouth.
“What’s wrong?” asked Mike. Ratu ignored him and jabbed a molten finger at the lamia’s head, scorching her flesh.
“Where?” she demanded. Amymone translated, and the lamia replied. The dryad looked up at the two of them and shook her head.
“There’s very little there worth translating. Sorry.” Amymone shrugged. The lamia said something else, and the dryad raised an eyebrow. Naia, who sat nearby, covered her mouth in horror.
“What’s wrong?” asked Mike.
Amymone looked at Naia and nodded. The lamia was immediately hurled into the fountain. Streams of water snatched the creature in mid-air and yanked her underwater. The creature twisted and splashed for several minutes as everyone watched in silence. Eventually, the lamia went still.
Mike looked at the nymph in disbelief. “What did she say?”
“It’s not worth repeating.” Naia’s eyes were cold as she stared at the lamia. “She had her chance.”
“It was about their preferred prey.” Amymone’s eyes flicked to Mike. “They don’t care if the child has been born or not.”
“I see.” He studied the corpse beneath the disturbed waters of the fountain, his own heart now hardening toward it. Mike had been willing to dismiss what the lamia had said earlier as the vented anger of a prisoner, but if the nymph had acted, then the lamia had it coming. “What do we do with the body?”
“I’ll throw it in the Underworld.” Abella stepped into the fountain and grabbed the corpse by the tail. “The demons can have her corpse as a snack.”
“And Cerberus can have the demons.” Naia crossed her arms and glared at the dead lamia as it was dragged from her fountain. She didn’t take her eyes away from it until Abella opened the gate of the Underworld and stepped through. When the gargoyle returned, she shut the gate behind her and gave Mike a thumbs-up.
“Now that this ugly business is taken care of, let’s talk about the statue.” Ratu held up the broken statue. “A containment vessel, capable of storing a living creature.”
“We’ve seen stuff like that before,” he said.
“No, you’ve seen stuff that contains spirits before.” Ratu pushed the pieces together. “But something that can seal away a living creature like a lamia? Very uncommon.”
“I’m not sure what the big deal is.” When Mike saw Ratu’s eyes narrow, he continued. “So explain it to me.”
“There are two reasons why this bothers me. First and foremost, it takes a spellcaster and enchanter of extraordinary talent to produce an object capable of magically storing away a living creature. The thought that someone out there can do so greatly disturbs me.”
Mike shrugged. “While I get that, there’s no reason to think that whoever made that is still around.”
“Which brings me to reason number two.” Ratu tilted the completed statue up, revealing the bottom to Mike. The words for Emily were written on the bottom.
“Ah,” he said. Emily had been the Caretaker before him, a woman who fell prey to a parasitic shadow that drove her to insanity in its mad bid for power. In her final moments, she had managed to regain control of her body long enough to take her own life and halt the shadow’s plans. “Shit.”
“Vastly understated.” Ratu hefted the pieces in her hands. “So not only is there a good chance that this person is still around, but they at least knew who Emily was. Why would they bother giving her such a gift? Was it a trap? Or perhaps something more sinister?” The naga slipped the statue pieces into the sleeves of her robes, which contained interdimensional spaces capable of holding much larger items.
“I have no idea. Naia?” Mike looked at the nymph hopefully.
Naia shook her head. “I’m afraid that any knowledge about this person is unknown to me,” she replied. “In her later days, Emily was very…private.”
“Well, okay then.” Mike clapped his hands together. “We’ll go ahead and put this on our list of mysteries. By the way, the Vault is all sealed up, but if anybody sees or hears anything weird, speak up. Would hate for something bad to happen.” He smiled at everybody. “A fork did try to murder me earlier.”
“I bet it’s been eating at you all day.” Amymone looked over the top of her book with a grin. Naia summoned a torrent of water and blasted the dryad right out of her hammock. The dryad sputtered in indignation until she realized that her book had been spared.
Mike chuckled and gave them all a wave. “Alright, you two. Try to play nice.” He looked at Ratu. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a spider to punish.”
The naga seemed distracted, but waved him off. On his way into the house, he stopped to look back and saw her studying the statue pieces once again. He wasn’t too worried. Once Ratu was ready, she’d come talk to him about it.
---
Sofia stood on the seventeenth floor of stack 402 when a rat ran up to her and squeaked for attention. The cyclops turned her gaze away from the books she had been re-shelving and looked down at the magical rodent. The rat gazing up at her was all business as it stood on its back feet to address her. The portal rats were generally around a foot tall, though this one was probably only nine inches.
“The naga is here,” it stated. Regrettably, only Eulalie seemed able to keep track of their names. The Arachne had the benefit of being able to distinguish them by smell as well as sight. That, and Sofia didn’t spend nearly as much time with them.
“Ratu?” Sofia cocked her head. The rat nodded, then pointed back toward the lobby. “Let her know I’m on my way.”
The rat ran off, then slid into a gap between the bookshelves. The Library of Thoth was currently riddled with rat-sized shortcut portals which enabled the rats to carry out Eulalie’s instructions. While Sofia was still considered the Head Librarian, the Arachne herself currently did the bulk of the work. The cyclops occasionally wondered about her own continued purpose, but Eulalie had zero interest in being the public face of the Library should it ever properly open again.
The cyclops finished shelving the books in her care, then turned away from the stack. The warped stacks around her were confusing, but she had memorized the general layout of the Library centuries ago. The real key to understanding it was the symbols on the column. To most people, they looked decorative. For a Librarian, the shape of the symbol helped describe the layout of the shelving that the columns contained, patterns that could easily be swapped out or repeated.
When Sofia reached the exterior of the column, she tapped her staff on the ground and waited for her ride. A plush, masterfully woven carpet had been laid across the magical stone pedestal that hovered nearby, and she stepped onto it. As the carpet flew back toward the lobby, Sofia had it avoid the large beams of light from the skylights up above. They were unusually bright today and the sudden change in lighting would make her eye water.
Upon reaching the lobby, the carpet descended to the checkerboard marble floor below. A large stone Earth rotated behind the information desk with a single point of light roughly where Mike’s home was located. The desk itself was crawling with magical rats. When Eulalie had first moved in with them, Sofia only saw them on occasion. Now, there were easily hundreds, scampering everywhere and keeping themselves busy.
At first, Sofia hated it. However, the rats were actually doing work. Sofia had been trapped alone in the Library for decades, unable to reach anyone from the outside world. The cyclops had not only wrestled with loneliness, but the sheer volume of work she needed to accomplish as Head Librarian. Some years ago, she had fallen into a depressive state and simply stopped working so hard. There had even been a two-year stretch where she wrestled everyday with the urge to just burn the place down and try to eke out a living amongst the ashes.
Shortly after, Mike had found her. Now, the Radley family had given her a new purpose, and the rats were catching up on the backlog. They still technically answered to Eulalie, but deferred to Sofia in matters of the Library. When Sofia had asked if the rats weren’t simply just slaves, Eulalie had told her that the rat colony far preferred the safety of the Library to the cold, harsh reality of life on Earth. The rats were always welcome to return to Reggie’s colony if so inclined.
Down at the desk, Ratu reclined on one of the comfier benches. Her robes draped down onto the floor and the rats had brought her a charcuterie board to snack on. She was busy eating grapes and cheese when the carpet landed with Sofia.
“Welcome,” said Sofia, stepping off of the carpet. “Did I forget a meeting?” Ratu had been in and out of the Library for various reasons and usually scheduled time with the Librarian in advance. Most recently, both Ratu and Zel had been looking up resources on childbirth and life magic. There were already several concerns about Tink’s current condition, but goblins impregnated by humans with the help of Christmas magic was new territory for everybody involved. The main thing that drew concerns was the fact that the pregnancy was leeching away the magic of the house that kept most of its occupants looking young. Tink was easily in her sixties and nobody was certain how long goblins could live.
There was a very real fear that Tink would die of old age the day the baby was born.
“This is unplanned.” Ratu cut herself some more cheese, then daintily spread it on some crusty bread. “I need your most recent resources on enchantments along with sealing rituals with an emphasis on keeping creatures in stasis.”
Sofia tapped the butt of her staff on the ground and waited. The magic of the Library danced up and down the enchanted wood as the query was sent. Moments later, several titles populated her mind.
“They aren’t too far from here,” she said, walking toward the flying carpet.
“Excellent.” Ratu followed, leaving the board behind. A pair of rats was already waiting to clean up after her. “Oh, and I’m not going to eat anymore of that,” said the naga to the rats. “So if you want it, I won’t be offended.”
The rats’ eyes sparkled as they grabbed the tray and ran off. Sofia watched them go, then chuckled. Snacks were also one of the benefits of the Library. The building kept its occupants fed by taking food from around the world, and she was certain a restaurant or caterer was trying to track down the silver platter right now.
“Come.” Sofia stepped onto the carpet and put her hand on the control rod. Once Ratu was onboard, the carpet floated into the air, then picked up speed as it sailed through the stacks and columns. Ratu pulled a ribbon from her sleeves and tied her hair back to keep it from going everywhere. Pedestal flight was one of the reasons Sofia kept her hair in a braid all the time. The other was that she simply didn’t have time to do anything else with it.
Almost ten minutes later, they reached the first stack. Sofia and Ratu stepped off of the carpet and moved toward their destination. The cyclops sent a pulse of magic through her staff and the bindings of the books that Ratu wanted glowed.
“You can take a peek through those,” she said. “I will be around the corner waiting for you.”
“Thanks.” Ratu moved next to the shelf and pulled the first one down. She opened the cover and apparently saw something promising and quickly set it aside. By the time Sofia stepped away from the stack, the naga had already pulled four books from the shelf and rejected two of them.
Sofia walked a couple of aisles down to a spot where an arched window overlooked the Library. Down below, she could see the magical machinations that helped to bring in and sort new books into place. Rats had integrated themselves there as well, helping to offset the incoming flow of literature. At this rate, it would only be a couple of decades before they were able to get Sofia caught up to the 21st Century.
The Head Librarian had a lot of thoughts about this. The idea that the Library would once again be up to date and usable gave her a sense of satisfaction that she hadn’t experienced since…honestly, she couldn’t remember. Her ascendance to the Head Librarian position had been out of necessity. Years ago, when her people became the victims of an Order raid, she had escaped to this place in order to survive. Amongst the group interred here, there had been a very real fear that neglecting the needs of the Library may disable the magic that provided them food and kept them alive.
Sofia very much doubted this fact now, but that was only after centuries of servitude. With Eulalie taking over the bulk of the work along with her rats, Sofia’s position was largely ceremonial. Sure, the Head Librarian’s staff granted tremendous magical power while inside this building, but so what?
Sighing, Sofia watched the hustle and bustle below her. For a few months, the cyclops had stepped up her game in order to justify her position, to prove that she was capable and not just an obsolete figurehead. After working herself to the bone, a new and frightening thought had occurred to her.
Was this even what she wanted anymore?
“I’m done.” Ratu came around the corner pushing a cart with several thick tomes. “Unless there are any more books like this here?”
Sofia shook her head. “We’ve got two more stops,” she said. Soon enough, the rats would be able to do this for her, and then her main job would be hunting down anomalies. Already, there were rumors among the rats of magical books that had attacked them, or even run away at the sight of movement. Dealing with stray magic was also a librarian’s duty, but Sofia hadn’t bothered in her solitude.
The naga said nothing as they got onto the pedestal and went to their next location. She was already digging through the manuscripts, looking for something. By the time they reached the next column, two books were set in the book return pile on the cart.
“New project?” asked Sofia.
“Something like that.” The naga said nothing else. Typically, Ratu wasn’t forthcoming with her research, so Sofia didn’t push.
Half an hour later, they arrived at the last column. They navigated the stacks silently until reaching their destination, which was located in the center of a large reading room. Three books glowed on the shelf, which Ratu immediately snagged. The two of them walked back to the carpet, which hovered silently.
The naga sighed as she looked through the new books. “I don’t suppose you have anything more recent?” she asked.
Sofia shook her head. “If we do, it hasn’t been categorized yet. But I can put some feelers out, see what turns up.”
“I would appreciate that.” Ratu opened a green and red tome and frowned. “This one is almost two hundred years old. I refuse to believe we haven’t seen any advancements since then in enchanting or alchemy.”
Sofia shrugged. “I’m sure we have, but people don’t journal everything like they used to. So anything that ends up here is in the digital section, which is an absolute mess.”
“Eulalie is trying to organize that, right?”
“In between hunting down SoS members and spending time with Grace, yes.” The cyclops scowled. She and Eulalie used to be pretty close, but ever since Grace was born, the Arachne rarely had free time.
“That’s quite the face.” Ratu closed her book. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course it is.” The lie was obvious. Centuries of social isolation was responsible for that.
The naga set her book aside and crossed her arms. “Let’s talk for a moment.”
“There’s nothing to say.” Sofia stared straight ahead.
“Well, unless you’re planning on pushing me off this carpet, you’re gonna hear me out anyway.” The naga cleared her throat, then reached into one of her magical sleeves and pulled out a teapot. “Tea?”
Sofia shrugged. When Ratu handed her a cup, she accepted it. Ratu poured her some tea, then produced her own cup and did the same.
“I have a theory about what may be bothering you,” she said. “But only because I recognize myself in your position. Some time ago, I realized that the labyrinth had become something of a prison for me, an emotional one. I had allowed circumstance to lock me away and then chose to remain there, afraid to step out into the light of day where I could be hurt again.”
“How very dramatic of you.” Sofia sipped the tea. It was a mint blend and really good.
“I came to recognize that I was part of a family, but only tangentially. In giving me my space, Mike had allowed me to isolate myself. Tell me, when was the last time you came out for anything other than cooking a meal? I see the way you look at those kids. Why don’t you ever stop by and play with them?”
Sofia handed her cup back to Ratu. “I’m no longer thirsty,” she said. One hand dropped to her stomach. Beneath the thin fabric of her robes was a scar that had rendered her sterile at a young age. If she was the only cyclops left, it would remain so.
“Ah, I see.” Ratu shook her head. “It’s the kids, isn’t it?” When Sofia didn’t answer, Ratu continued. “I am well aware of your condition, and doubt lightning will strike twice with a Christmas wish. Is it that you’ll never have children of your own? Or rather, is it that you will never have children with Mike?”
Sofia’s cheeks burned red. “Neither,” she said. “Well, both, but neither. It’s not just about the children, that’s just a part of it.”
“Feeling left out of the family?” Ratu nodded sagely. “I was in that same boat. It finally occurred to me that I needed to make the effort, to step out of my Labyrinth and make myself included. My issue was loneliness, and I wonder if it’s the same for you. How often do you even get out of this place? Do you just work all the time?”
Sofia cleared her throat. “We’re landing,” she said, relieved that the lobby was now in sight.
Ratu sighed. “Well, whatever the issue is, I hope you figure it out.” Once the carpet had touched down, she grabbed the cart and pushed it off. “A word of advice, though. Whatever it is you’re hoping to find or figure out, it’s not going to happen here, in the Library. You need to get out more.”
“Enjoy your books,” muttered Sofia as she commanded the rug to lift off. If her brusqueness bothered Ratu, the naga didn’t show it. The rats escorted the enchantress out as Sofia watched from overhead, her eye brimming with tears.
“What do I even want?” she asked. The Library, as usual, had no response for her.
---
Mike walked into the pale blue room and looked around. Jenny’s doll collection had been relocated here from the secret room in the attic, which meant that several dozen dolls stared at him from every corner and shelf. He shook his head and held up the children’s book in his hands.
“If anyone in here wants to get a bedtime story, they’d better show up right now.”
A dark mass detached itself from the ceiling, lowering on a single strand of spider silk. Grace made it halfway down before the silk snapped, dropping her face first on the floor.
“Go bang,” she muttered at his feet.
“Yeah, you did.” Mike reached out for the silken strand that still dangled from above. It had streaks of green and blue in it. “Have you been eating crayons again?”
Grace hissed, then picked herself up off the floor.
“Hissing at me doesn’t mean you get out of answering.” Mike pointed at the strands. “Crayons are not for eating, Grace. This is a perfect example why.” The Arachne’s webs were made up of proteins that she digested. It was perfectly clear that her most prolific intake was of the Crayola variety.
“Story,” Grace demanded, then tried to climb into Mike’s lap before he could even sit. He managed to waddle over to the recliner in the corner, then groaned with exertion as he sat down on it with his daughter clinging to his stomach.
“Yes, story,” he said. “Do you want to hold the book this time, or should I?”
“Cal hold book,” she replied.
“Cal is grounded,” Mike replied. “For what happened in the Vault.”
“Grounded bad.” Grace looked up at him and pointed to herself. “Me too?”
“Yes, you’re grounded, too. Your brother is extra grounded because of what happened in the Vault. He knows and understands why you shouldn’t go in there, so his mother decided he has to stay in the village for a couple of days.”
“Bad!” Grace hissed again.
“He was bad, and so were you.” Mike gave her a stern look. “And that’s why you lost your markers, remember? Though it’s clear I should have taken away your crayons, too. How many are even left in the box?”
Grace held up three fingers.
“I hope you’re kidding, because that was a 64 pack.” Mike opened the book. “Now do you want a story, or do you want to talk more about child discipline?”
“Book,” said Grace as she snuggled her body in between his leg and the recliner. She was able to squeeze herself into the gap so tightly that anyone watching would think that a normal sized child was sitting in Mike’s lap. So much of her abdomen disappeared in the leather recliner that Mike wondered if his child was more hermit crab than spider. Once she was comfortable, she pointed at the closest shelf where a doll resided. “Jenny?”
“Jenny is out with her friends right now.” He shuddered to think what Lily, Jenny, and Dana were getting up to. Mike didn’t ask questions when it came to those three and he was likely better for it. He also didn’t ask much about the weird jerky he had spotted Dana eating on occasion that amplified her strength and dexterity. The less he knew, the better. “Do you want backup Jenny?”
Grace shook her head and pointed somewhere else. “Pawpaw Cyrus.”
Mike was just able to reach the stuffed bear that sat in a place of honor on Grace’s nightstand. The stuffed bear wore a trench coat and held a stuffed wand. It had been almost a month since the old man’s spirit had passed on and Mike still missed him. Knowing that Cyrus had moved on to a better place helped, but it didn’t magically fill the hole he had left behind.
Of all the people affected, Death had taken his passing the hardest. The Grim Reaper had immediately lost interest in both tea and maps and now spent much of his time walking. As Death was tireless, this meant that there had been Grim Reaper sightings all along the Eastern Seaboard, but Mike wasn’t about to tell his friend how to grieve.
Mike read Grace Goodnight, Spider, which was just a different version of the infamous classic. Yuki had done all the illustrations inside. Grace had all the words memorized, and often spoke over him, but Mike didn’t mind. He would only have so many years with her as a child, after all, and he needed to make moments like these count.
Still, he could do with less mischief involving the murder room in his damned basement.
The moment he finished the book, Grace drooped to one side as if asleep. Mike had to stand and pull her abdomen and legs out of the recliner, the Arachne hanging loosely in his arms. When he tucked her into bed, he made sure to tuck Pawpaw Cyrus in with her. Grace wrapped the bear tightly in her arms and rolled over, feigning sleep. Most nights, she would remain in this position until someone got her up, but there had been a couple of restless nights that resulted in the child cramming herself into a corner of the house and falling asleep there.
Even though Grace was awake, Mike played along and snuck out of her room quietly. He shut the door behind him with a soft click, causing the magical runes on the door to activate. They were enchantments put in place by Ratu herself, but their primary function was to alert him if she got out of bed in the middle of the night. Though he doubted the house would ever come under a proper siege, the rest were dedicated to repelling intruders.
Grace’s room was down the hall from the stairs that led to his. His master bedroom had once been on the second floor of the home, but as it magically changed, it was now on the fifth. The master suite actually comprised the entirety of a tower in the home, of which there were now four. The home had been expanding recently, and Mike wondered if it was related to Tink’s pregnancy. He had tried asking Hestia herself about it, but the goddess had been oblique with her answers.
His bedroom was large, but most of it was taken up by the massive bed in the middle. A headboard with handholds had been installed into the wall behind the bed, which seemed a little silly, but had come in handy. A lot of nights, he had no idea who would be in his bed, but recently that spot was reserved for Tink. The goblin smiled sweetly at him, propped up by pillows with a bowl of popcorn on her stomach. She was watching the television she had begrudgingly let Mike install after she had been put on bedrest. Currently, some sort of home improvement show was being streamed.
“Husband come to bed soon,” she said, then held up the bowl. “Eat popcorn with Tink.”
“That sounds great,” Mike replied, pulling off his shirt. He couldn’t help but laugh at the way Tink ogled him. Her bedrest had put a moratorium on sexual activity, but only out of fear that they’d trigger labor early. That meant it had been some time for Tink, and she was absolutely fucking him with her eyes right now. “I’m going to take a bath, first.”
“Ooh, sister Naia is big lucky.” Tink’s gaze dropped to Mike’s crotch, where the outline of his cock stood up through the fabric. “Maybe Tink eat more than popcorn?”
Mike laughed. “Absolutely not,” he replied. “We won’t be able to keep our hands off each other if you do.”
“Mmhmm. Husband real smart, take good care of Tink.”
“Always.” Mike leaned onto the bed and kissed her on the forehead. There was a wrinkle there that he had never seen before. He kissed that, too. It didn’t matter to him how old she got. Nothing could change the way he felt about the goblin. “Are they flipping houses or remodeling them for others?”
Tink yawned. “Flipping,” she replied. “But give Tink big ideas for decorations, finish baby room after she comes.”
“Or he,” Mike corrected.
“Hah! Tink know, is girl.” She stuck out her tongue. “Goblins girls are best girls.”
“That was never up for debate.” He kissed her forehead again and stripped the rest of his clothes off on the way to the bathroom. All of his clothes went into the hamper, and he now stood in the master bathroom. A large bathtub capable of holding multiple people was already filling up with water, the steam rising up to frost the mirror and windows.
“Didn’t you have a shower this morning?” asked Naia, her voice emanating from a collection of bubbles that popped by the drain.
“That shower was to get clean,” Mike said. “I’m here to get dirty.”
The nymph giggled as her body appeared, melting up from below. She was currently clothed, but the fabric was made out of water just like the rest of her. She beckoned him with a finger, then sank back down beneath the surface. Magical bubbles formed across the surface, obscuring the inside of the tub.
“It’s been a while since I’ve had my way with you,” muttered Naia from somewhere in the water.
“I’ve been a busy man.” Mike slid into the water and let out a sigh. The temperature was perfect, the heat seeping into the sore muscles of his lower back. Cleaning up the Vault had taken far more energy than he expected, and he groaned in delight when Naia’s fingers pressed against the base of his spine.
“You’re all tight down here,” she said, her breasts forming beneath his back and lifting him up from the smooth surface of the tub. “You’re much too young to be having aches and pains like this.”
“Well, I also helped Yuki with her paint purchase, earlier.”
“I heard.” Naia smirked. “I’m guessing you didn’t hurt your back carrying her paint.”
“Technically, what happened after was a thank-you for carrying up her paint.” Mike didn’t bother holding back the stupid grin on his face. Upon getting Yuki’s paint squared away, the kitsune had bent over her bed and demanded that Mike fuck her. When he came, she had taken some of his semen to mix in with her paints. She claimed it was in order to empower her magical artwork, but he suspected she was just being extra freaky.
“That reminds me. Abella said that there are some rough patches up on the roof that need a fresh coat.” Naia had lowered her voice so that Tink couldn’t hear. “It wouldn’t be a big deal, but if we get a snowstorm, there could be water damage.”
“I’ll add painting to my to-do list.”
“It had better not come before me.” Naia’s hand snaked around his waist to grab the base of his cock. Within moments, he was hard. “I’ve been on that list far too long, lover.”
“If I could copy myself, I’d never hear the end of it from Lily.” Mike chuckled as the water caressed the muscles in his lower back. “She’d demand all of us bang her at the same time, I’d still never get around to taking care of everybody.”
“Oh, she’d hardly be the first one to ask for a Caretaker gangbang.” Naia giggled. “So maybe copying yourself wouldn’t be as productive as you think it would.”
“Most likely…wouldn’t.” Mike groaned. Naia was using hands made of water to jerk him off. There were at least three of them now, slowly merging together into a watery vortex that formed over his shaft. “You sure know how to help a guy relax,” he commented.
“It’s a move straight out of the nymph manual.” The water in the tub pressed in on him, massaging the tension out of his body while Naia’s vortex sucked and slurped on his cock. “The only thing better than a good massage is a blowjob with your massage.”
MIke didn’t bother replying. He groaned and allowed the nymph to do whatever she wanted. Within minutes, it felt like his brain had disconnected from his body. His consciousness hovered, the beginnings of the Dreamscape trying to form around its edges.
“Hey,” Naia whispered. “You wanna try something kinky?”
With his eyes still closed, Mike lifted an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”
The water swirled around him, and Naia’s presence disappeared from behind him. As he sank to the bottom of the tub, he opened his eyes to see that most of the water had formed into a massive sphere just above his legs and feet. The liquid gradually formed into Naia’s head and the top of her breasts, which together were about as tall as he was.
“Um…” Mike was shocked. “I didn’t know you could get this big.”
“Funny. That’s what I usually say to you.” The nymph smirked and opened her mouth to reveal a massive tongue that slid up and between his legs. “And I’m afraid this is the limit of my abilities. Water is heavy, and very difficult to sculpt into a body once it gets too large.”
“What a shame,” Mike replied. “But if I’m being up front, the whole being swallowed thing was Lily being Lily.”
“Oh, I’m not here to swallow you.” Naia giggled and opened her mouth. Mike’s lower body slid between her lips until her lips stopped at his chest line and his shoulders lay full on her breasts. Her tongue slid along his body as she gently sucked on his lower half. The sensation was new and different, the nymph focusing quite a bit of her efforts on his cock. More than once, he would feel her tongue shift and transform moments before a smaller mouth would start sucking on him.
“What would you even call this?” he asked. Naia giggled and shrugged. It didn’t have to have a name, really. It was pretty hot. He had zero control over his lower half, but the nymph’s tongue was doing all the work. His magic danced inside him, excited by the new experience. The strange pressure of her mouth had him feeling harder than ever, and he didn’t bother holding back when his magic demanded release. When he came inside of Naia’s mouth, he felt that pressure shift dramatically as she licked him clean and swallowed, the back of her throat briefly closing around his feet.
Her lips parted, allowing him to slide free. She giggled and started to sink beneath the water.
“Hey!” Breaking the cardinal rule of bathtub safety, Mike stood up in the tub. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Haven’t had enough of me?” She giggled again.
“You can’t just become a giant head, suck me off, and then run.” He placed his forehead against Naia’s nose.
“What do you suggest?” she asked.
“We give the fans what they want.” Mike used his foot to push on the top of Naia’s breasts. “Kisa said if it has tits, I’m gonna fuck it. So let’s see them!”
“Ooh, bossy, I like it.” Naia’s torso lifted and her head disappeared. Mike promptly pressed himself between her breasts, grinning madly as he used both arms and his legs to attempt to squeeze them. Naia’s nipple was roughly the size of his head, but he did his best to fit as much of it in his mouth as he could.
His whole body was wrapped around her boob when he heard the soft click of a camera. He turned to see Tink holding her cellphone, chortling gleefully to herself.
“Tink show everybody,” she muttered, then walked back out of the bathroom. He heard the soft shoop of her phone as it sent the photo to whoever its recipient was.
“There goes your reputation, lover.” Naia’s voice bubbled up from below.
“Screw it,” he replied. “I get to squeeze a boob the size of my body. I’m above caring what other people think.”
Naia’s laughter was like the tinkling of bells. “Maybe you can squeeze something else for me, then?” The breasts shifted and pulsed, and Mike felt himself sliding down Naia’s cleavage as her faux body shifted once more. Water spilled out of the tub, then reversed course and flowed back into Naia’s watery form. Her breasts were soon replaced with inner thighs, and Mike found himself staring at her vagina, which was now as tall as he was.
“You’re really letting me live out my giant slayer fantasies, aren’t you?” He ran his hands along the nymph’s thick labia. With a little bit of effort, he was able to tease her clitoris into view. Larger than an ordinary human’s and more rigid, her nymph’s pearl was now an orb the size of his face.
“More like giant layer,” said Naia. “Amy is gonna be proud of that when I tell her.”
“More like jealous.” Mike pressed himself against her crotch, then rubbed his hand across her clit like he was trying to tell the future in a crystal ball. “How does that feel?”
The nymph sighed in pleasure. “Relaxing,” she replied.
Relaxing was a start, but Mike knew he could do better. Summoning his magic, the air hissed and sizzled as sparks leapt from his fingertips to dance along the surface of the pearl. The water in the tub sloshed violently as Naia’s whole pelvis shook.
“Oh! OH!” Naia moaned, the sound causing the whole bathroom to reverberate. Out in the bedroom, Tink grumbled to herself, but Mike wasn’t worried. She was likely annoyed that she was missing out.
“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” Mike massaged the pearl with his lightning hands, then realized he was thinking too small. Keeping one hand on her clit, he slid his arm into her pussy, then arched it up in an attempt to find her g-spot with his hand.
The thighs squeezed together, pinning Mike in place. Laughing like a maniac, Mike summoned his magic and teased Naia with sexual lightning from the inside. Naia’s powerful thighs pressed him hard enough against her body that his hips parted her labia, allowing his cock to press against the softer flesh inside. Pumping his hips back and forth, he humped her skin while pumping her full of magic.
This was weird, strange, and unexpected. He was having the time of his life.
Water sloshed out of the tub numerous times, only to come crawling back for more. Mike’s own orgasm was building, his arms growing tired as he continued to fuck Naia with his whole body. Eventually, he slid both arms inside her to zap her from the inside while licking her pearl. Sparks filled the air, and despite his best efforts, he ended up blowing his load first.
When Mike came, his magic surged, seeking out his partner. What had been a steady stream of sexual magic became a torrent of energy, and Mike’s eyes rolled up in his head as the magic left his body and leapt straight into Naia’s g-spot as if it were a huge capacitor.
The whole bathroom rumbled as Naia let out a moan that sounded like a whale in the distance. Her thighs squeezed him so tight that he feared he might pop, and then she came so hard that she squirted. The blast of liquid was like a firehose, shoving Mike back until he was pressed against the wall of the bathtub. Laughing maniacally, he pumped his arms in the air under the deluge of girl cum.
Naia’s massive form quivered, then fell apart, filling the tub back to full. Mike sat back down in the water, then put his hands behind his head as Naia rose up next to him, her body now its normal size.
“I certainly didn’t expect that,” she said, running her hand along his stomach.
“It certainly was a big surprise.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.
“A lesser nymph would drown you for that.” Naia giggled and mounted his still rigid cock. “It’s a good thing I find you funny.”
She rode him softly, now taking her time. In lieu of words, they exchanged kisses and soft touches. There was no sense of urgency or uncontrolled passion. Just gentle, slow lovemaking.
When Mike came again, so did Naia. His magic was hungry, and attempted to start a feedback loop, but he made it play nice. Otherwise, the two of them would be in the bathtub all night.
The two of them just snuggled for a bit, and then Naia washed his hair for him. When she was done, she proclaimed him done and then helped him stand. Mike stepped out of the bath and didn’t bother grabbing a towel. Naia had sucked all the water off of him on his way out.
“I’ll see you in the morning.” She winked, then melted into the water. The tub drained in seconds, the majority of the water being pulled back down into Naia’s spring. Mike chuckled to himself, then put on his robe before walking back into the bedroom.
On the bed, Tink had stuck a pair of sound-canceling headphones over her ears. When she saw him coming, she pulled them off and made a face.
“Husband have good time. No fair,” she muttered.
“There will be plenty of good times after the baby comes.” He leaned over the bed and kissed her forehead again.
Tink cackled to herself. “Husband have no idea. Tink think of all the things.” She grabbed the edge of her popcorn bowl and shook it. All Mike could hear were unpopped kernels. “Husband make more?”
“Of course.” Mike took the bowl and left. When he got down to the kitchen, he found the box of microwave popcorn and placed one of the bags in the machine. He stood next to the microwave, listening closely for the sound of silence. The last thing he wanted was to burn the popcorn. Not only did it stink, but Tink would probably eat it anyway.
Satisfied that the bag was finished, he opened the microwave and pulled the bag out, then dumped it into the silver bowl. Seeing just how much he had filled the bowl, he went ahead and repeated the process with a second bag. He looked outside to see that the lights around the fountain had come on, illuminating Naia as she floated on her back. The nymph was chatting with her sister, who sat on a low branch that reached over the water. Even from this distance, Mike could see Amymone’s head drooping. He would be surprised if she didn’t go dormant in the next couple of days.
On his way back to the stairs, the front door opened and Death stepped inside. The Grim Reaper was wearing a green Jansport backpack and was using his scythe as a walking stick.
“Welcome home.” Mike leaned on the railing. “It’s been a few days.”
“Indeed it has, Mike Radley.” Death folded up his scythe, then tucked it into the darkness of his robes. “I feel that this last walk has done me more harm than good. People have started approaching me and asking if I have something called an Instagram, or maybe a tiktok. Oh, and when they say tiktok, they don’t mean our Tick Tock. That led to some confusing conversations.”
“I’m sure.”
“Anyway, I went for a walk for peace and quiet and have decided I prefer the peace and quiet that I can find here.” Death took off the backpack and opened it up. “I did bring you a shirt from Florida, though.”
“Florida?” Mike stared as Death pulled a vintage tee with a sun rising over the state. “You walked all the way to Florida?”
“Indeed. I thought you might like a souvenir.”
“Thank you.” Mike took the shirt and laid it over his shoulder. “You sticking around for a bit, then?”
Death nodded. “I am a man of the world, Mike Radley, but I know where my heart is.” He stuck his hand in the bag. “Is Grace Radley still awake?”
Mike shook his head. “Probably, but she got in trouble today. Best to leave it for tomorrow.”
“A father knows best.” Death’s eyelights sparkled as he picked up his bag. “If you don’t mind, I will be in the office having some tea. You are welcome to join me, should the mood strike you.”
“Let me take Tink her popcorn and I think I will. Would be good to catch up.” Mike held up the bowl. “Do you want some? Promise I won’t tell her you had any.”
“I would not take food from Tinker Radley, even without her knowledge. I fear her wrath.” Death pointed at his teeth. “Plus, I abhor popcorn. It gets caught in my teeth and everyone can see it.”
“I bet.” Mike walked up the stairs, making sure to avoid the fourth one from the bottom. It had a squeak that Tink might hear, and she would demand he let her fix it right away. There were two other squeaky stairs on the way up to the fifth floor, and Mike made sure to step around them. At the top of the stairs, Mike held the bowl triumphantly in front of him as he walked through the door.
“I come bearing snacks!” he declared, using his foot to push the door open as he held the bowl aloft like a trophy. “Are there any goblins here who want some—”
The words dropped from his lips as he saw Tink clutching her belly, her face scrunched up in pain. Red strands of hair that framed her face shriveled and turned gray before his eyes, and Tink cried out when she saw him.
“Husband…get…Tink to…horse ass!” She cried out in agony, her body curling up in the fetal position. Mike threw the popcorn bowl aside and picked Tink up, cradling her against his body. The goblin immediately lost consciousness in his arms.
“Tink? Tink!”