Winter's Secret

Chapter 5

"Eth Alth'eban."

Even I was confused at how much this building resembled that place I'd only read of.

"Really?" I called aloud. "You built the fortress home of the League of Assassins?" First it was fairy tale stories and now comic books? What the hell was going on here? The transportation spell left me a bit nauseous but I didn't think I was hallucinating.

I know I'm not what most people would think of as the average comic book reader. But when you have limited electronic options for entertainment, comic books and paperbacks becomes a staple to keep your sanity. Add to that the fact that Butters probably had the most extensive comic collection in all of Chicago and you can see why reading comics made up the vast majority of the few enjoyable hours I'd spent when Harry was gone.

This brought me back to Ra's Al Ghul's home and office standing before me. The place was home to hundreds of the deadliest killers in the world.

My options were either entering the fortress and dealing with whatever lay inside, or trying to scale my way down a mountain of snow and ice, in the face of what appeared to be a building storm, and with night falling. I'm not sure I could physically freeze to death any longer, but it wasn't a bet I was willing to try and lose. I also was not keen on trying another teleportation so soon. It's not safe playing with magic I didn't understand. Well, the choice of one option is really no choice.

I walked forward and reached the door but came to an abrupt halt. I could feel that there was a powerful threshold before me. That was bad because it mean if I wasn't invited in, I'd leave about ninety percent of my power outside. Harry may be able to fight with only ten percent of his, but that limitation in the face of combat was surely a death sentence for me.

I could try just sneaking around once inside. My veils were very good and if I only covered just me, they were not very hard or magically draining to maintain. But I had to think a place that trained people to be invisible, likely had some sort of defense or warning system for this type of thing.

My only other choice was to openly seek an audience as a means to ask the owner for entrance. That wasn't a thrilling prospect, but if this place held true to the comics, merely making it here made me worthy of an audience with the head of the League.

I raised my hand to knock, but as my knuckles moved toward the ironwood door, the power of the threshold, which I could magically sense as easily as if I were looking at it, parted before my hand. I was only just able to stop my knuckles before they struck the wood.

What the hell? That type of gap in magical power was not supposed to happen.

Could the owner have pulled the threshold back? I never heard of such a thing being possible. Even when invited in, the threshold barrier didn't part as much as allow a wizard to join with it and be protected while inside. What I saw here was nothing like that.

I pulled my hand back and the magical power of the threshold rushed back filling in the magical gap and restoring the warding barrier that was easily equal in strength as the ancient fortress's stone walls.

I say again; what the hell? Was it some sort of spell?

I fine tuned my magical senses even further but found no trace of any spell cast to open a gap, if such a thing were even possible, or for that matter any other spells at all cast on the door. All I sensed was just natural threshold power; very strong threshold power, which spoke of people who had called this place home for a very long time.

I moved my hand forward and again the power parted before me. There was no sensation of resistance being offered, which is what I should normally be feeling. For those who never experienced, my hand should have felt like it was pushing through a pool of creamy peanut butter and tearing away my magic. But instead, my fingers reached the handle of the door and opened it as the power across the portal receded to make way for my passage. I stepped inside, not even feel so much magical resistance as the slight breaking sensation you get walking through a strand of spider web.

Odd, but convenient for my purposes.

Maybe this was normal for this place. Perhaps the League of Assassins thought they were so tough that they wanted their enemies to come inside fully armed. I wasn't going to complain, but that meant they were probably ready for just about anything to include wizards. Of course this was all still based on the assumption I was truly dealing with the League.

So let's start with something subtle so not to trip of any alarms, just in case. I focused my sensory attentions and sought out any presence of magic traps or alarms, and at the same time any sign of emotions which would let me know if something living, or even undead, was about.

I got nothing.

God, this was as bad as when Harry ran gaming days.

"Hey Butters, my thief reports it's all clear. How about you put your big muscular barbarian up in front of me now?" God, I would so prefer to be sitting around his table right now with my friends.

While the outer walls were obviously built for a strong defense, the inside of the building seemed to be a maze of rooms and corridors. The furnishing in most were sparse, to the point of barely being worthy of the term furniture at all.

Many of the first rooms were small cells, like what monks would sleep in, and only contained a straw mat. There wasn't any lingering evidence that these were even in use, except for being generally fee of dust.

Beyond the cells there was what passed for bathrooms, rather large community facilities completely barren of privacy. Based solely on this arrangement, I decided right then and there, that wizard apprenticeships had more to offer, even with Harry as a master, than an assassin-monk's life here.

Those dormitory facilities gave way to an open courtyard housing all sorts of weapons, from ancient to modern, and many of which I could not identify. Another sensory sweep from emotions told me it too was deserted. Not that I was complaining about not facing off against an army, but by this point I'd like to know for sure who or what lived here.

There was a second, even larger, indoor structure beyond the training yard that might hold those answer, but since I was here, I figured it wouldn't hurt to check out the weapons and see if there was anything I'd feel comfortable enough to take with me. Whoever dressed me up like Alice or Dorothy was skimpy on the self-protection aspects.

I wandered right past the more ancient weapons as they did not suit my current needs, there was a nine foot maul that looked like it weighed a ton, and to ones from my time. A set of racks on one wall seemed to hold every type of firearm conceivable, especially automatic weapons, up to an including an electric minigun on a strap like the one the former Governor of California carried in a movie, or was it the former Governor of Minnesota?. Having been on the receiving end of one of those I knew its potential for destruction. Had the weight alone not been enough of a deterrent, I was sure my magical abilities would cause it to jam just when I needed it most. For that reason I skipped past all of the automatics.

What I found instead was incredible.

It was a pair of drillings, guns that had two shotgun barrels side by side and a rifled barrel underneath. Basically, a gun that could fire three rounds at the same time.

While drillings were very rare, the fact that these two had the barrels cut down to a foot or so in length and the stocks replaced with pistol grips made for a pair of incredibly unique weapons that I instantly had a fondness for. They even came with two belted holsters that tied on both thighs. That would not do with the dress I was wearing, but I planned to change that the first chance I got as well.

The ammunition for these weapons was stored in a fireproof locker right beside. A quick examination of this gave me pause. Instead of copper slugs or pellets, these were made from iron, silver, magnesium, or a combination of all three. Apart from being incredibly expensive and hand loaded, it also showed the owners were well versed in battling mystical enemies.

I commandeered a few ammo pouches from the automatic weapons area and filled them with a combination of twelve gauge shotgun and twenty-two caliber rifle rounds. I then loaded the weapons with a mixture of types and secured them in the holster and belted it on, accepting that the leg tie downs would just have to swing free until I found better clothes.

Okay, that made me feel a little better. Now, if I can just find some clothes that do not scream Disney movie I'd be set.

There was a main double doorway to the next build along with two smaller doors, which after investigation, turned out to be just storage rooms for other weapons. So it seemed he main doors would have to be my choice.

Another quick scan told me the doors of the inner building were also not warded. That made it easy to enter, but another indication that the residents weren't particularly afraid of potential visitors.

Once I was inside I let my senses free again searching for signs of magic or emotions. There was none of the former, and the only ones of the latter I could sense were still deeper inside the building. I could tell there was more than one being in residence, and that the emotions being emitted were a mixture of conflict and enjoyment; probably a perfect combination for people whose job was killing others.

Since there was nothing to be gained by delaying the encounter any further, I used the emotions as a beacon to home in on the local residents. I also drew in magic and kept my hands near my newly acquired weapons, so that I could respond accordingly to whatever situation presented itself.

The hallways I passed through changed from sparsely decorated to much more elaborate or even what I would call outright expensive. There were what appeared to be small Greek or Roman era statues on pedestals, beside what looked to be old Chinese vases.

Another room was filled with stuffed animals, including what may have been an actual dodo bird. It also had racks of antlers and teeth mounted on the walls. One set of horns was nearly twelve feet across and would make even the biggest water buffalo jealous with horn envy. Yeah, size matters to them.

One wall displayed an old medieval shield painted with an almost lifelike representation of what I assumed was Medusa because of the wavy snake hair. I have to admit it seriously creeped me out the way the eyes seemed to follow me. In fact, I even went so far as to use my wizard senses to make sure it was neither magical, nor one of those Scooby Doo paintings with the false eyes and someone hiding behind it.

One room I passed by nearly glowed yellow from all the wall decorations. The painting had the telltale building with onion tops that I took to be Russia. The room also had a glass display rack that held a collection of what had to be Faberge eggs. I did not even want to know how much the various items in this room cost.

I focused once more on the emotions I was feeling and sensed they were getting stronger. I could even hear the sound of what I took to be combat originating from behind a door at the end of my hallway. I crept up to it, I was sure that there were still only two beings beyond.

Well at least it is not an army of assassins.

I pried the door open a bit so I could hear a bit better.

"Do you bleed?" A deep, gravelly, male tone asked, though it seemed as if the speaker was purposely trying to disguise his voice. "You're going to."

"Wait, I do not understand who I am and why I am here."

"What is to understand?" The deeper voice softened but seemed a bit perturbed. "You are the last survivor of your race from a distant planet…"

"I thought you said I had a cousin."

"Okay, last except for her…"

"And didn't that movie say there was a bunch more of my people in the poltergeist zone?"

"It's called the Phantom Zone. And yes there are more there, but those are criminals. They don't really count." The first explained. "So you are the last survivor who is not a criminal…"

"Except for my cousin…"

"Yes, except for your cousin…"

"And don't I have a dog from my planet too?"

"Well yes, but dogs don't count…"

"Well if the dog were a werewolf would it count then?"

"It's not a werewolf so the question is stupid…"

"Don't I always tell you there is no such thing as a stupid question?"

"Yes you do." The voice was not past perturbed and up to irritated. "And now you just proved yourself incorrect."

"Do not be rude!" The second voice scolded. "It is not my fault the stories in these books make no sense." I could hear pages being turned quickly.

"Sure they do, you just have to…"

"Is this a Kryptonian city in a bottle?

"Oh yes, that is the capital city of Kandor." The first answered. "It was shrunken and placed in a bottle for safe keeping."

"And there are people there?"

"Yeah, about six million or so..."

"Wait, now I am confused."

"What?"

"I thought I am the sole survivor."

"You are.

"Except for these six million."

"Well, yeah…but they were shrunk."

"And the hundreds in the Poltergeist Zone…"

"Phantom Zone." The first corrected again. "And those don't count because they are criminals."

"And my dog."

"Doesn't count. It's a dog."

"And my cousin."

"Well, yeah, but she doesn't count…"

"So I'm really the sole survivor because I don't count anyone else?" The second asked. "Doesn't that see a bit megalomaniacal?"

"Just forget it!" The first was not angry. "I won't ever ask you to play with me again."

"No, the next time you ask me to play a game, just let me be the character I choose."

"Oh come on, you're not still mad that I wouldn't let you dress up like Wonder Woman are you?"

"That Wonder Woman is a trained warrior, just as I am." The second explained. "She comes from a tribe of great warriors, just like I do. It was the perfect choice for me."

"No it wasn't." The first voice was now was going from low to nearly screeching. "The movie is called Batman vs. Superman. You can't change the name of the movie just because you want to dress up like Wonder Woman."

That image that popped in my head that came with recognition of the pair of voices was too much even for me. I pushed open the door and the two occupants ready for all out battle turned to look at me with widening eyes of surprise.

The closer of the two was an elderly looking man with a bald head. Instead of the monk's robes he normally wore, my friend Hisha was currently in a rather poorly made Superman costume that seemed to be bulging a bit too much around the waist. Somehow the 'S' on his chest had also printed out backwards ruining the image even more.

But, if a short, bald, Superman was not shocking enough to behold, the nearly nine foot tall troll in what had to be a custom-made, expensive, and apparently fully functional batsuit that even Christian Bale would have to envy was even more alarming. Lord Kline, his name a play on his size, much like Little John, was even more shocked; staring at me open mouthed while small rivulets of saliva pooled on the floor by his feet.

"Hey guys, am I interrupting?"

The troll's face was the first to turn from shock to smile; a rather disturbing image if I didn't know he was friendly. "She's hereeeee!"

"See, you proved it! "I knew it was Poltergeist…" The monk said then rushed past the troll and swept me up in his arms and gave me a hug that even Lord Kline would have had trouble matching.

"MOLLY!" The pair called out in sync, the happiness in their transmitted emotions was nearly overwhelming to me. I don't get that a lot from people outside my family, and these two let it flow freely. I blame that for why my eyes teared up on me.

"I missed you guys!" I said hugging Hisha back before the 'Batman' gathered up both of us in his big arms and lifted us gently from the ground. Lord Kline may look like an intimidating troll, but his heart was filled with more kindness and compassion than almost anyone I knew.

He looked closer then put us down after a moment. I sensed embarrassment in him.

"Oh Molly, I am sorry. I did not mean to wrinkle that…ummm…lovely dress." He also was willing to lie so not to hurt my feelings. "I've never seen you wear something…so…"

"Ridiculous?" I finished.

"Well I'd have gone with words like traditionally feminine, but yours works." The troll replied. Most people do not consider trolls to be up on fashion but Lord Kline was the obvious exception.

"I don't suppose you would happen to have anything I could wear?" I said twirling to make sure he understood how poor a choice this was for me; not just in appearance, but in functionality too. The pair knew I was a bit more rough and ready than this getup afforded.

"You can have one of my spare robes." Hisha offered politely.

"Be gone Philistine!" The troll answered him. "Molly would never wear such rags."

"What do you mean? I have never been to the City of Brotherly Love, much less be considered a resident." The monk cocked his head.

"That's Philadelphia."

Hisha offered the troll a confused look but when the nine foot monster closed his eyes and shook his head, the bald man turned quickly to me and offered a wink.

They were an interesting pair. If television producers ever decided to revive The Odd Couple, I was going to send them here first. The material they would gain would easily be worth the trip.

"Do we still have that stash of blue leather?" The troll asked Hisha.

"Blue leather?" I cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes, that fool of a troll decided he wanted to pretend to be the American folk hero Paul Bunyan." Hisha explained. "He even made me sneak up on a giant Bull of Inde while it slept and dye its coat dark blue so he could have his fabled Babe at his side."

I remembered some vague reference to a Bull of Inde in Harry's lesson books. From what I recalled, they were massive beasts, meaner than even the worst tempered rodeo steer. They also had horns that could rotate so that the pointy end always aimed at its target.

"The beast did not enjoy playing with us and instead turned its horns upon itself rather that submit to our capture so we might remove the dye."

"I am guilt ridden by its extreme action." The troll admitted and I could feel actual regret over the beast death in his emotions. "We took the blue hide so not to waste it and mounted his horns in the trophy room." I was pretty sure he was referring to the twelve foot rack I had observed earlier. "Since then, I spend months tanning and softening the leather. I'm sure it will be perfect for you, both in durability and color."

"You expect her to wear just the hide of a cow like a moo moo?" There was a pun in there but he had not really intended it. Out of politeness I tried not t even smile.

"Of course I don't, you pagan." The troll answered. "I studied for ten years with the best tailors in London." He said proudly. "I will make her a fine set of clothes myself!"

"Wait, you only came about five years ago." I pointed out since I had been there at the original Lord Kline's death. The current was a regenerated clone, if that was the correct term for what a troll could do. Regardless of the correct term, the ten years of apprenticeship was impossible.

He turned to look at me straight on. "When my kind regenerates to our full height, all our memories from our previous bodies are restored." Oddly enough I sensed discomfiture in his emotions and awkwardness in his tone. "It is considered and evolutionary advantage for my race so we do not lose our hard won wisdom." Actually, for most trolls it probably only provided a memory of who killed them so they could seek revenge.

Still, it seems I had slipped into an area that broached poorly upon trollish etiquette. I guess talking about the difference between physical age and memory age was something to be avoided. But thankfully, like all such things, he brushed this off with his good nature and turned back to the subject of making clothes for me.

I tried to dissuade him from this plan but Lord Kline would not hear of it. In a mere handful of moments he had left and returned, not only with a massive midnight blue swath of supple leather, but also with a full sewing kit, foot pumped sewing machine that seemed way too small for him., and a smaller piece of white silk.

It is never wise to purposely argue with a troll so I submitted to inevitability.

Like any truly professional tailor, he took all my measurements, which I have to say was rather awkward, and then went immediately to work, without even drawing a pattern on the hide with chalk first. Instead, he pulled forth a set of shears that seemed too small for his hands and cut out various pieces, trying not to waste material.

While his hands stayed happily busy and engaged, Hisha went away and brought back two of the largest bean bag chairs I'd ever seen and motioned for me to relax while Lord Kline happily hummed in contentment. A troll humming; yet another sight I never expected to experience.

"I sense great conflict in you, child. I also can see it has been some time since you slept, or at least rested where you felt secure." Hisha said looking me over. His ability to sense emotions was as strong as my own. In fact, he'd helped me unlock some of my inner power to make me a better wizard. "Will you not tell your friends what troubles you now face? It surely cannot be any more complicated than your previous trials." He smiled in a fatherly type of way.

Wanna bet? I thought the words but did not say them aloud.

There was probably some advantage in not letting anyone know I was on a quest, and that until I succeeded, the Winter Court was down one of its strongest weapons. But, by the same token, it was very rare that I had a person, much less two, I could truly open up and explain my worries to. I had my dad, but I preferred not to bother him after everything he'd been through.

I didn't mind worrying these two. "Let's see, where to start?" I began. "Okay, well it seems I've been drafted as the new Winter Lady. This is even more awkward because Harry is the Winter Knight, which means he, more or less, works for me, which puts a really weird spin on our master and apprentice relationship."

"While I have been selected to wield the Winter Lady's mantle, I can't actually access her powers until I learn some secret that only the most powerful of the Winter Court know. Of course, Maeve is dead, and Mab is off keeping the universe safe so doesn't have time to enlighten me on this at the present." I said sarcastically. "Actually that is not completely true. From what Lea said I gather that until I figure out the secret on my own, Mab doesn't want anything to do with me."

"And if that weren't enough, I also have someone dressing me up and placing me in storybook situations." I indicated my clothes. "I'm not sure what kind of game they are up to, but I have no desire to play along." I stopped and took a deep breath looking from one to the other as they stared in shock. Se guys it CAN be worse!

"I believe the Romans had a comment for this type of situation." Hisha said sympathetically. "Crappy Diem."

The troll stopped his sewing and stared at the monk. "The Latin term is pronounced Capre Diem you uneducated Philistine. It means 'Seize the Day' so hardly appropriate for the situation Molly is facing."

"First, it has been many years since I visited Israel so I do not know what Palestine has to do with this discussion." He turned away from the troll and to me. "Please excuse him. It is unfortunate that the brain of my friend Lord Kline has not matured as fast as gangly body…"

"Gangly?" The troll's voice raised an octave.

The monk looked back at him. "I was trying to find a polite way of saying preposterously disproportionate as those words have far more letters than you are able to understand."

"WHAT?!"

Hisha ignored his outrage and turned back to me. "While my bulky and bulbous friend is correct about the commonly known phrase, I myself was referring to a far less known statement of 'Crappy Diem;' what a shitty day." He smiled sympathetically.

It took a moment for my mind to catch up, I was tired after all, but once I did, I burst into full laughter.

God it felt good to laugh and also get all that off my chest to a willing and knowledgeable pair of ears. In fact, putting all that out in the open made me suddenly realized how hungry I was as well. This was emphasized when my stomach growled loud enough for Lord Kline to hear it over the sounds of his sewing machine. It actually turned out to be more of a full out roar than a growl I guess.

Still bristling from losing their last verbal spar the troll was the faster to respond. "Show some manners you pagan and get Molly something to eat." He scolded his friend.

Hisha ignored him and looked at me. "You are not taking proper care of yourself. Let me provide you a meal and the promise of a good night's sleep among friends, even if one of those friends is little more than an overgrown seamstress."

"Hey! OW!" The monk's distracting words caused the troll to stick himself with a needle he was using."

See." He said to me. "Do not bleed on her new clothes." Hisha ordered him before leaving.

The troll turned back to concentrate on his work, but not before mumbling under his breath. "Just wait until I dye all your robes glow in the dark pink." His humming was soon the only sound in the room.

It was nearly ten minutes before the monk returned pushing a cart with a tea service and various fruits and breads. He also had a blanket draped over his shoulder that he shrugged off into my lap as he passed. This was a subtle order for me to getting some rest. For once, I did not feel the need to argue with someone ordering me around.

The last item on the cart was a small eighteen inch statue of Athena, or Diana as I couldn't immediately tell if it was Greek or Roman in origin. While the stature may have originally been a beautiful piece of chiseled marble, now its smooth surfaces had been gouged by a series of small magical symbols, only a few of which I recognized as wards of strengthening and protection.

It also vibrated with magical power, similar in rhythm to a heart beating.

"What is that?" I pointed to the statue.

"First things first, drink this." Hisha handed me a cup of steaming tea as he turned back to select pieces of various fruit and bread from the cart and load up a plate for me.

I brought the steaming beverage to my lips to blow upon it, expecting to only take a taste as the liquid inside as it seemed scalding. As the fine china touched my lips and I released my breath, I felt a wisp of Winter Magic flow as well, instantly cooling the tea to the perfect temperature so that upon my first taste of its cherry flavor, I did not draw back, but instead was able to drink the entire thing.

Hey, now that is a handy Winter perk!

Hisha placed a tray on my lap with the plate of food he'd selected and immediately refilled my teacup before answering my earlier question.

"This statue contains a rare being called a Spirit of Knowledge." Hisha explained making my eyes widen just a bit.

I wasn't supposed to know about Harry's friend Bob, but of course I did. Why he thought I wouldn't be able to sense something so powerful as a magical skull when I was working in his lab was sort of silly on his part. And while Bob had been given orders not to speak to me, like pretty much any male I'd ever encountered, a little bit of extra cleavage soon had him talking.

"I have heard of such things." I tried to keep a straight face.

The monk nodded and turned away from me to address the statue directly. "Roberta, if you please?" He spoke to it.

"Roberta?" I asked. "Really?"

Lord Kline answered. "The monk is too formal. Bobbi can you come out here please?"

"Wait, you have a Spirit of Knowledge named Bobbi?"

"Well only for this month." The troll answered. "Bobbi cannot dye her hair, of have a makeover like other women, so she settles for changing her name every month or so. That month she only answered to Jackie O was really annoying." He turned back to the nearly completed pair of pants in his lap.

Blue twinkling sparks illuminated in the statue's eyes that were turned to me. "All hail the new Winter Lady." She said rather formally.

"Ummm, thanks, but I'm not the Winter Lady yet."

The sparks seemed to turn to look at Hisha. "Is she truly this slow? You did explain that I am a Spirit of Knowledge, right? Has 'do not speak sarcasm become the newest Law of Magic or something?"

Wow, she really could be Bob's sister.

"Okay, you made your point."

"Ah good, so you can, in fact, learn. There seems to be a glimmer of hope for the survival of our universe after all; even with you potentially leading the armies in defense from the Outsiders."

I knew getting mad at her barbs or arguing wasn't going to get me anywhere, so I swallowed my pride and resorted to the best means to get the information I needed, flattery. "Bobbi, the problem is before I can assume my duties I have to learn something called Winter's Secret. As a Spirit of Knowledge, you wouldn't happen to know it would you?"

Her sparks turned back to me. "While I know many secrets, I'm afraid that is one I've only heard in whispers even exists. To most Fae it is a myth, a story that they tell to make the Queen's and Ladies look weak. Your question to me is the first true confirmation I have. So unfortunately, no I do not know the answer that you seek."

Wow, so much copying off the smart kid's test. I really am going to have to work for this. "Okay, would you have any advice on where I might find the answer? Is there anyone I should talk to?"

"To find the secret to Winter's power?" The spirit reminded me. "If you assume that Mother Winter, the Queen, and the Lady are the only ones who have the secret in the first place, it seems the chances of finding someone who learned it and is willing to share incredibly unlikely."

I had to agree. But what point would there be in putting out a challenge that the Queen knew was impossible? She had to want me, or someone else at least, to take up the mantle of the Lady, if for no other reason than pulling double duty would not allow Mab the time to work on other things. Therefore, the challenge merely had to be the way of proving I was worthy of all that power.

"Well Lea said she did not know the secret and she is as close to Mab as anyone." I pointed out. "Is it possible one of the other two may have shared it with someone, a lover perhaps?"

"Maeve was never close enough to anyone to trust them with any secret, much less one to her power." Bobbi reminded me. "She was too into herself. Her lovers were there for her enjoyment, not for anything like bonds of human intimacy."

"Mab has had a few lovers over the centuries, but, like your friend Harry, this is her way of selecting her new Winter Knight. From his online performance, I don't recall any moment that looked like there was time for a sharing of secrets. It all seemed pretty loud."

Yeah, I had gotten to witness it from inside Harry's head when I cleaned out his memories of ordering his suicide. I could attest to the fact that Mab had not passed any such secret to him during their bonding.

"That leaves Mother Winter." I offered hopefully.

Bobbi laughed. "Yeah, she was ancient and living with Mother Summer before I was even a glimmer of knowledge. Those two have been alone harping on each other forever. I have no doubt Mother Winter knows the secret. Whether she is lucid enough to recall it though is another story. That is if you can even get close enough to her to ask about it without her killing you just on a whim."

I yawned.

Well that didn't sound promising. But as far as leads go, Mother Winter was the only real one I had, unless I wanted to ask The Merlin, or maybe see if Bob knew the answer.

Harry could summon up demons and negotiate for answers from them. But he had warned me against ever trying such spells myself. The evil from just a Black Court vampire was almost too much for my emotional sensitivity to handle. There was no way I wanted to try being in the presence of a being of pure evil like that, especially since they tended to draw out conversations with extended negotiations.

I yawned again and wrapped myself up into the blanket for comfort. I turned to focus on the food as I tried to figure out my next step.

Lord Kline dropped the pair of leather pants, a white silk shirt, and a match blue leather vest on my lap. "That will get you started." He said. "Try them on while I finish the ensemble."

I pulled the clothes under the blanket and slipped the pants on right under the dress. They were warm and supply and I could tell they fit like a glove. I really wanted to see how they made me look.

With those on I jerked around underneath until I could pull the dress off completely. I guess bras were not a regular part of nineteenth century adolescent attire. Thankfully, once I had the silk shirt on, the leather vest was equally snug and supportive of my, uuummm, sizable interests.

"Bobbi, Molly also claims someone has twice placed her into story-like situations, though she cannot find any sign of the magical illusion being used." Hisha explained to the spirit. "What can you tell her about it?"

"I could take a look, but I already fulfilled my answer of the day requirement." She replied. "So unless you want to negotiate…"

The words hung in the air.

"What do you want?" Hisha's tone of exasperation told me he had played these games many times before.

"What do you think, forty-eight hours of freedom?" Bobbi replied.

"No, we are still paying to straighten everything out from the last time." Lord Kline came in firm on this one.

"Oh, it wasn't as bad as all that…"

"You went to Southerby's Auction and bought Empress Josephine's hope chest!" The troll's voice was a bit stressed.

"What? A girl like me can't have hopes of her own?"

"Not ones that cost over three hundred thousand pounds!" The troll answered. "Besides, you can't wear a wedding dress, and you don't have any family china from your mother to pass down, so, no, a girl like you does not need to have hopes like that."

The spirit eyes seemed to dim in a pout until Hisha voiced in. "You may have twenty four hours, but no more auctions."

Bobbi's eyes brightened. "It's a deal. There is this new swanky mall in Tokyo I heard about that can make music instruments out of crystal. I thought I would check that place out."

"Wait, what?" The troll seemed to be calculating the price of such items. "You can't take my credit card!"

"Of course, I wouldn't do that." Bobbi answered. "Spirit of Knowledge, duh! I've memorized the number already."

"Huh…"

Bobbi cut off the troll by emerging from her statue as a shower of sparks and rolling around me. Even covered by the blanket I could feel the occasional jolt when a spark got too close. If I ever wanted to know what it was like in a swarm of fireflies, now I had my answer.

The sparks pulled themselves back together and then reentered the statue. I could feel a sense of surprise even before she spoke.

"Wow, are you screwed." She started.

"I know, the quest is impossible."

"No, not that." She continued. "You have not one, but two powerful spells that have infused into your body."

"Is it something lethal? Hisha asked before I could. "Has Mab done something to her?"

"No they are both ancient spells called Sleepwalkers." Bobbi explained. "I'm not sure even Mab herself could cast this spell, much less do so twice. It doesn't smell like her type of work. But I can tell you that it was two separate beings who cast these spells."

"So, I have two wizards messing with me?"

"It would appear so." Bobbi replied. "Though I am not sure the term 'messing with you' is correct. This spell was created as a punishment to teach people lessons, rather than kill them outright. Don't misunderstand, if you screw up you will die, probably horribly, but the real intention of the spell is merely entertainment for the one who cast it."

"Wait, now I'm a reality television show?"

"More likely a bad sitcom, but the general analogy is correct."

"And this spell allows the wizards to watch me?"

"Only when you're asleep, hence the name." The spirit explained. "The spell is actually cast upon your subconscious so that when it takes over, it transports you right back to your lesson in progress, like a school. I believe the original Merlin used it on at least some of the Knights of the Round Table to teach them humility as they pretending to search for the Holy Grail."

I noticed Hisha and Lord Kline talking quietly and they both seemed distressed, but I couldn't be distracted or Bobbi would consider her transaction completed and leave. I had pull everything out her I could and deal with whatever else was a problem later.

"Can the…" A yawn broke my question. "Can the spells be broken somehow? Will sunlight take it down?" That was often the easiest way or ridding oneself of a harmful spell.

"Not that I have ever heard of." That meant no in my book. "They have to be completed."

"But I'm free from their effects as long as I don't go to sleep, right?"

"Yes, that's how it works."

The troll got up quickly and brought me what looked like a blue version of Harry's leather duster. "Stand up and put this on. And belt on those weapons while you are at it." He held the coat waiting for me to slip my arms in the sleeves.

I stood and did so with another yawn, while Hisha stuffed my oversized pockets with the extra ammunition boxes I had brought along. A glance at the monk was all I needed to confirm the sense of worry and regret from my two friends.

"What's wrong?"

"Molly, you will have to forgive us…" Lord Kline began.

"No, forgive HIM, it was all his idea." Hisha added.

"Forgive, for what." I started to sway on my feet and I suddenly realized what they meant. "Oh, you didn't…"

"Molly you looked exhausted so we added a little melatonin to your tea so you would sleep better." Lord Kline answered. Well that explained the cherry flavored tea.

"Oh crap…" I said losing my balance but feeling the trolls hands catch me before I fell.

"It is like I said…" I heard Hisha's voice seemingly some great distance from me and getting farther. "Crappy Diem…."