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Brood of a New Age

48.

Owen's tasks as majordomo in David Xanato's service were extremely varied. Among other things, they included curious, sometimes undignified activities about which both Puck and his human alter ego wrinkled their noses. Other employees might have insisted that this and that did not fall within their contractually regulated area of responsibility. Owen Burnett didn't. He handled everything with unwavering stoicism and dignified indifference, no matter how small or insignificant the task.

Since the reawakening of the Gargoyles and especially since they had moved back into the castle, his fields of activity had partially expanded to include them. Which mainly meant that Burnett was the most inconspicuous middleman possible between human employees and clan members. Did it surprise the in-house shoppers now to have to procure things of daily use and foodstuffs that did not want to suit the Xanatos family at all - neither by the immense amount of ingredients nor by their nature? - like the thirty packs of ham potato chips and ten jars of jalapenjos a month, or the considerable quantities of polishing pastes for metal like swords and futuristic firearms as well as for "animal" horns. Or did the cleaning staff wonder why such an old castle crumbled so much without falling apart when they swept the stone chips from the battlements during the day? (Even though the robots and cyborgs always powered up and retreated for those hours when they sensed the approach of strangers.) Or why the general amount of garbage of the castle inhabitants had grown so much - something that really could not be attributed ONLY to the toddler in the castle (he meant Alexander).

Owen didn't care as long as everyone did their job. And Owen's job was to get the clan halfway "housebroken" in every respect without being thrown out of the nearest window. But his friendly hints and instructions seemed to bear fruit little by little. This morning he was pleased to see that most of the trash cans in the clan's own areas, inaccessible to the human staff, had been emptied by the inhuman residents themselves. He also did not find it too difficult that the gargoyles bring their own garbage to the garbage chutes. His own patrol already mentally finished, Owen checked Lexington's computer room. There was never much trash there, the physically smallest of the clan still seemed to be one of the cleanest and tidiest of this community. That's why it was rather interesting to see a stack of neatly stapled printouts in the trash can next to the computer terminal. Owen bent down and pulled out the paper, suspecting that Lexington had accidentally dropped his work on whatever in there. He skimmed the first page, raised an eyebrow, turned the page, scanned more pages, and then decided that this clearly fell under "for the boy's protection and benefit," so with a snap of his fingers he disappeared from that part of the castle -

- only to reappear a second later as Puck in the middle of Xanato's bathroom.

"Good, beautiful, glorious mooooorning!" warbled the hyperactive Fey, as always excited to show his true form and a spark of his powers, even if only for a few moments. Even David Xanatos was unable not to be startled in this situation and whirl around with his eyes wide open in horror. Whereby he slipped on the foam he had just finished rinsing out of his hair, threatened to fall in the shower stall under running water, and was zapped into his bedroom, where he came up bouncing on his bed. Puck chuckled at the sight of his usually pulled-together contractor (owen Burnett's contractor, actually, but who wanted to split hairs in that situation?).

"Puck!" hissed Xanatos, pulling his summer blanket over his crotch more out of reflex than shame.

"Oh, who's going to be a prim and proper prude? You humans with your-"

"What do you want? Is something wrong with Alex?"

"Yes and no."

Pick grinned broadly, which made the billionaire assume that there was no immediate danger for his child, which gave him room to meet the presence of the trickster with more composure and to scrape the remaining foam from his eyes. Helpful as ever, a towel appeared in Puck's hands. As soon as Xanatos took it, it transformed into the flayed fur of a mean-looking lion with a scar over its eye.

"Nothing dries someone better than the hide of a bad guy," Puck purred as he buzzed around the large room like a hummingbird without visible wings. Xanatos hurriedly dried himself and then held the fur in front of his abdomen while he went to his dressing room. He had been doing some research on Oberon's children and Puck in general for the past few months (a necessity for him as a strategist and father of a "child with potential"). That's why he knew better, than to provoke Puck with rejection or impatience to share the secret of why he showed up. That would be the quickest way to get Owen back.

The fey approached again just as he was putting on his boxers and undershirt, and Xanatos saw in one of the many mirrored doors that Puck was standing upside down on the ceiling a meter behind him, a thin pale finger thoughtfully resting on his chin.

"If I may recommend a new style?" he said, clapping his hands. David Xanatos cried out as he looked in the mirror at a hideous figure with burnt, half-peeled skin. Green-red striped sweater, brown hat. As he raised a shaky hand to his face, Freddy Krueger did the same with his deadly knife-studded glove.

"Too scary? I get it! Let's try something else," Puck said from behind him. Another clap and instead of Freddy Krueger, a blue-faced guy in a toga with a gaunt face, sharp teeth, blue skin and blue blazing flames instead of hair showed up in the mirror. Heart pounding, Xanatos raised his arm and ran his hand through his fiery hair without burning himself.

"Oh hardly better. Besides, you haven't seen the movie yet. Go see it, my relatives portrayed in it are delighted."

Another clap. Xanatos found himself in black and white- wearing the clothes and face of Norman Bates from Hitchcock's Psycho.

"Too old school? Let's keep that in mind in case the Missus discovers role-playing."

Clapping again. Xanatos stared briefly at the roundish woman with the shoulder-length hair, the homely-looking West, and the blue dungarees he had become before turning with a questioning raised eyebrow. "Kathy Bates?"

Puck looked horrified.

"No, my current favorite human. Annie Wilkes! From Misery. But okay, I admit that's a little off topic. How about this for a hint."

Again, clapping.

Again David Xanatos stood in front of the mirror in shorts and undershirt. With his body and face. Only now he wore the green-brown plastic mask of Hannibal Lecter. In the last few disturbing seconds, Xanatos had run several options through his mind as to how to end this charade. Of course, it had remotely to do with Alexander's safety but that Puck had time and nerve for these ... games was almost reassuring. And now he had an idea to get the quirky fey back on track. Xanatos slowly put his hands to the fastener of the mask on the back of his neck, opened it and pulled the mask off his face, smiling at Puck.

"I think - if I get to keep my body, I would prefer the last costume for the next Halloween party. Although I imagine it would be difficult to get to the hors d'oeuvres in a straight jacket. I always appreciate your input, though, Puck."

"Those weren't suggestions for Halloween costumes," the fey said perplexedly, lowering his arms in demotivation. His frail body sailed like a leaf fallen from a tree onto the récamiere in the middle of the room where he remained, eyes moist.

Smiling, the billionaire turned around and pulled one of his usual shirts out of the closet and said while pulling it over his head: "I'm sorry Puck, but only Owen is allowed to give me recommendations in questions of everyday clothes."

"You know very well that I may and can only appear when it concerns your son!" said Puck in a theatrically whining tone.

"Oh, really? Must have slipped my mind." He shrugged his shoulders. "Oh well. Can't be that important if we have time for a fashion show."

"No fashion show! Clues. Important clues! Didn't you understand them or don't you want to understand them?"

"I think ... my human head would understand it better if you just show me. Or have Owen show it to me."

"You don't want to deal with me!" the fey hissed accusingly.

"On the contrary dear Puck," Xanatos lied bluntly as he pulled on his pants. "Only you must admit that your skills are completely wasted on me."

The Fey - still unwilling to move past the precious moments as Puck again - jumped to his feet and gestured wildly with his two traditional and four newly added arms

"Mister Xanatos! David! Human. Your son. My pupil. Danger is imminent. YOU -" Six pointed forefingers pricked him in the chest.

"YOU - have let wolves into your castle. Wolves trying to throw wool from sheep over themselves and infiltrate your little well-behaved gargoyle flock. Will you wait until they lure the hunters to your little farm to produce gravel? Or until they slaughter the lambs themselves! My lamb! In my current state I can protect my lamb but not the other sheep! Yet they offer so much potential for entertainment! Do something, now!"

Xanatos looked at the fey who stood in front of him with a tangle of folded arms, breathing heavily and staring at him expectantly. And although he knew exactly, or at least suspected, what Puck was talking about, he had to pretend to be many times dumber than he was. In order for the Fey to have enough sympathy for the slow-witted little human to become the one David Xanatos could talk to constructively. Therefore, he did what was absolutely contrary to his nature, tilted his head like a dumb puppy dog who didn't understand that you had to do your business outside and said:

"I'm not quite sure I understand."

The fey knew for sure that he was only pretending. But still, his time was up - with no direct threat to Alexander.

"Ahhhhh," screeched Puck twirling three more loops around the room, spinning at a speed that blurred his form to the human eye, and coming up on the floor as the wooden blond, too-human-to-be-true Owen Burnett.

With a petrified face that only barely hinted at his disgruntlement, he held out the stack of printouts to his employer.

"I guess, sir, Grace and Dante aren't who they say they are," he said curtly. David Xanatos looked down at the sheets, the top page a translation of a newspaper article about the Italian Camorra.

At that second, he heard the door to the bedroom slam shut.

"We'll discuss this in my office," Xanatos said neutrally, smiling at his lovely wife, who had just come in from her morning jog and was even sweaty a sight for sore eyes. Owen Burnett tucked the printouts under his arm, nodded politely to his employer and his wife, and departed.

Fox's next glance after she eyed the trickster in disguise walk away fell on the mask and the scrunched-up lion skin on the récamiere. She looked at him questioningly and her husband shrugged.

"The good Owen. So excited about Halloween. Already making suggestions for costumes."

He could tell by the look on his wife's face that she knew he was fibbing. He had married her, after all, not only for her looks but because her intellect and wit were also up to his level. But although their marriage had not yet lasted long, they both knew that one had to let the other keep little secrets. Things about which one did not ask questions until these things became really relevant. So she gave her husband a kiss for being him, a pat on the butt for lying and disappeared into the bathroom.

Thanks for reading, Q.T.