Case 24: Entry 4

When we opened the door in the kitchen we saw something from an Escher painting. Did Escher actually paint or was it charcoal or something? Whatever. The point is that we opened the door on a topsy-turvy labyrinth. And this time there weren't any footprints. I was more than a little intimidated, but we went in anyway. We tried the usual trick of keeping your hand on the right wall, but somehow that didn't work. It turned out there was some kind of spatial loop that just zapped us back to the someplace a little further from where we entered. I started taking notes, but it was Brennen who found the way out of the first loop.

The air here seems somehow more rich. The whole place is fertile with possibilities, both good and bad. I think it's making us both more of what we already are, which might have been how I guessed the nature of the enchantment in the caves. If I'm right, then Brennen's fey nature is being nurtured by this place, allowing his instincts to guide him through the maze. He brought us through at least three loops and I think he was even starting to anticipate the way gravity would sometimes change directions. Then the Small Folk noticed us.

We'd seen a few of the sprites and pixies darting around almost as soon as we entered the maze, but they hadn't shown any interest in us. That changed after about thirty minutes of wandering, though. At first they were just flitting around us trying to entrance or mesmerize us with their lights, but then one of them made a series of taps on one of the bricks and just as soon as I started to feel suspicious the gravity of the area got switched around and we got slammed into the new floor. It took us a few seconds to stagger back to our feet and check ourselves for injuries, but before I had quite finished my attention was seized by the sound tinkling, lyrical laughter. I looked up and saw the Small Folk darting around, cartwheeling through the air, and giving the general impression that this was the best game they had ever played.

We ran. The faeries thought that made it even funnier.

It turned out that screwing with gravity wasn't the only thing they could do. They also delighted in moving the walls around, rebooting the spatial loops, and activating enchantments such as one that flipped our perceptions of left and right or another that forced us to walk on our hands. I don't know how to describe what it was like when we tried to walk normally except to say that it wasn't allowed.

Eventually, I grabbed Brennen by the shoulder and said, "Stop, stop. We're never going to get through this way." I sat down and gestured for him to join me. "We have to make a deal."

Brennen had taken everything he could of his more arcane birthday gifts along for precisely this purpose. The trouble was that faeries were legalistic in nature and could be easily insulted, especially when it came to the Small Folk. So instead of just trying to call out and ask for a bargain we stayed seated and started looking at the haul. We played with the ones that leant themselves to games, and made sure the rest were visible. A sprite tried to steal a glimmering marble, but Brennen scolded it and said that it was a gift from Felebrul of the Daoine Sidhe. The little faerie wandered away with a look of shame. Then they changed gravity again, but as soon as we were able to get off our backs we just resumed the same position. The Small Folk tried the same trick four more times, and we kept on ignoring them despite the abundance of scrapes and bruises. I was feeling a mix of suspicious relief over having not fallen at an unfortunate angle and excitement at the way the faeries were starting to flit closer to us when I heard a loud, whinnying shriek and distant hoofbeats started echoing through the labyrinth.

There's a good handful of things that could have been (not counting shapeshifters), but there was one thing that immediately leapt to the front of my mind. Contrary to popular belief, the original headless horseman is not a ghost at all, but rather a faerie. It's called a dullahan (or maybe the Dullahan; I don't know if it's a species or a single one-of-a-kind creature) and if the banshee is the doorbell of death then he's the delivery boy.

Fortunately, the Small Folk didn't run for the hills, so I got Brennen to make deals for safe passage as quickly as he could. The rushed deals meant he had to give up more of his stash and he wasn't happy about that, but I didn't really care. Did you know dullahans carry around whips made out of freaking spines? Because I do, and not just because I'm an expert who knows this stuff. I know it because one was riding along the ceiling as we closed the last deal.

And so we ran. A lot. We had a head start and I think he was having just as much trouble figuring the place out as we did. At one point it looked like he was right behind us until it turned out he was stuck in a loop. I can't say how huge a relief that was. But I still didn't feel safe until we found a cabin in the middle of a particularly large room. I swear the horseman's whip was an inch from my neck when we slammed the door.

Case 24: Entry 3

I slept on the Pollexfen couch last night. I don't exactly have a lot of experience with changeling quests, so I wasn't sure what I might need to do to make sure I was with Brennen. As it turns out, that wasn't an issue. At the end of my meeting with Dr. Wundenhex he asked me to sign a contract. I should have known that the agreement was binding in more than one sense. Or at least, I think that's how I got stuck to Brennen as if by mystical superglue. I actually have no good reason to think the contract had anything to do with the connection, but it fits and it sounds more dramatic if I pretend I'm certain.

Anyway, I had a dream last night. It wasn't a normal dream, but it also wasn't like one of the visions I've had after getting to involved with spirits. Actually, it was quite like that other one but not exactly like it, more like I was seeing a vision from a distance. I when I woke up I couldn't remember the whole of the narrative, but bits and pieces kept flashing by in my first few minutes of waking, and there was one word that stayed with me: Glimmerfoot. Which is interesting because there were glowing blue and green footprints on the floor starting at the door to Brennen's bedroom and leading out onto the street. I had just barely enough time to absorb all of that nonsense before Brennen burst blearily out of his bedroom struggling to get the pack I'd help him make the night before onto his back and mumbling about how apparently it was time to go. Oh, and I he hadn't changed out of his night clothes, which happened to include a bath robe. It was a very Arthur Dent kind of look.

We followed the footprints (because apparently following glowing footprints to wherever is a thing you do during fey quests) outside and down a manhole (because apparently all that common sense that would normally tell us to not following the glowing footprints down a dark, dank hole doesn't apply during fey quests) to a tunnel that looked less and less like a sewer the farther on we went. Usually I would be happy about sewers being less like sewers, but in this case I would have preferred it stay stinky and normal. Especially when I first heard the canine growling coming from behind me.

After about fifteen minutes of travel we became aware of two pursuers. I only heard the wolf at first, but we quickly glimpsed the more humanoid stalker. He reminded me of an actor I'd seen at a gothic rendition of A Midsummer Night's Dream. He had all the usual faerie characteristics of pointed ears, youthful (one might even say childish) beauty, and lithe, subtle strength. He also had a uniquely manic air to him. We didn't see much of either pursuer aside from a few glimpses, but we could hear the snarling, the howling, and the cackling getting louder and more distinct. We started to run, but soon we got to a fork in the tunnel. The footprints lead to the left, which was covered entirely in rocks of varying sizes. We both stopped for a moment and stared at the difficult terrain. Then we heard the howling and the cackling and we ran the other way.

As we ran, there were other noises. Rustling sounds, low murmurs, jittery laughs. The roots that grew down the cavernous walls were getting thicker and more numerous. A few bristled with thorns. But we could still hear our pursuers getting closer, and we kept running. Then Brennen tripped and it took me a second for my brain to get through to my legs. I had taken to the job to guide him. The changeling was my responsibility. When I got back to him I dared to look back at our pursuers.

They had stopped.

I looked around. I saw glittering eyes gleaming out of the darkness. I saw the thorny roots. I heard the sinister whispers. I looked again at the wolf and the mad faerie. They hadn't moved. Then I had an intuition.

I took one step back toward the fork, and as I did the wolf retreated. Brennen shouted at me, but I took another few steps. The wolf did the same. And then I was sure that we were being chased by our own shadows. It took a bit longer to convince Brennen, but soon we were headed back to the glimmering path as our shadows danced before us. I saw a few imps, goblins, and other things leering out from behind rocks and roots, but we hadn't yet ventured far enough into the underground wilderness. We were still in the safe zone.

In the end, the glimmering path led us to a strange cabin. It was a long journey there and we had to make a few difficult climbs, but none of it was too dangerous. In the middle of the living room of the cottage is a door, and the footprints stop there. I believe through that door lies the next leg of our journey, but for now it is time to rest.