A Big Girl comes into his life

by Claidheamh Mohr

An Investigator for the Museum of Cryptozoology gets lost in the Canadian woods and meets a girl. A frost giant's daughter, here are their adventures.

112. Chapter 112

Night of the Boggarts

A few days had passed following the departure of not only the vampire queen Henrietta-Maria, but also the adventure with Astoreth, the dimensional traveler AKA Demon, as they were known because of a misunderstanding in olden days.

Roger had since heard from Matthew via a text letting him know he had arrived home in one piece, although Roger thought he detected a wistfulness in his message; clearly he missed Astor, his demonic fellow traveler.

Anastasia had settled into her room and was comfortably ensconced amidst her books and writing materials, cheerfully typing away.

Anita was in heaven, her favorite author, friend, mentor and collaborator on a couple of books was staying just down the hall from her.

It was her little secret she'd kept from her writing club as she had 'somehow' forgotten to mention during its last meeting that she had Anna Karlsen staying at her house for the time being.

Nor was it mentioned at the weekly PSFS meetings, currently held up at the Karloff Research Library located above Wolf Hills manor.

Warren had felt it best she be left alone.

He also failed to mention a lot of the things he'd seen around the house and library complex, after all they really didn't need to know.

Anastasia cheerfully agreed with and appreciated his decision.

He didn't know it yet, but he was being mirrored into a story idea she was playing with to see where it led to.

Sheila and Ildico cheerfully shanghaied Roger into going on runs with the two of them, with Sasha's furry self trotting along beside him with her own coterie of sprites clustered on her furry back, enjoying the morning air.

Fall was in full swing and Samhain or Hallowe'en as everyone else called it, was not far off.

"Are you staying through Hallowe'en?" asked Ildico as she trotted along, her long, lithe legs carrying her effortlessly.

"Not sure yet, I haven't decided." replied Sheila, her even longer legs barely warmed up as she held back for Ildico and Roger's sake.

Ildico grinned, "They put on this Samhain observance at the library and it's quite an experience, I highly recommend it"

Sheila chuckled and replied, "I'll give it some thought, it sounds interesting."

She glanced over at Roger and he said between breaths, "You know you can stay as long as you want to, that room is yours now."

"Any visits from our 'neighbors' during this event?" she asked.

Ildico grinned and said, "I usually get to talk to Doctor Shannon that night, she was an ER doctor I worked with and it turned out she was a changeling, an elf of all things! We play catch up and talk about medicine and the latest treatments. I always give her a bunch of medical supplies that she makes her husband carry home for her."

"I take it she has him well trained?"

Ildico laughed and said gaily, "You could say that, he's a centaurian with a doglike body, a big, doglike body and he's utterly devoted to her!"

"This, I gotta see. Yeah, I'll stay through Samhain. Sounds like fun!"

They rounded the last corner before the house and saw the towering pine tree first, it reared its needley head some two hundred feet into the air and dominated the landscape.

Scattered around its massive trunk were an assortment of colorful squashes, gourds and pumpkins, their vines sprawling higgledy piggledy as they took over the front yard of the big house behind it.

The house also loomed over the others along the tree lined road wending its way through the hillside neighborhood now known as 'Wolf Hills'.

It had been built for a retired circus giant couple and was scaled accordingly.

It was perfect for the growing giantess presently living in it with her 'wee folk' companion, Roger Tate who was now slowing to a walk with his two running partners, Ildico Swensen, an ER nurse and Sheila Ericcson, an office worker and erstwhile Claymore warrior.

Ildico grinned, "That was a pretty good run, we'll have to do it again sometime!"

Roger simply rolled his eyes at her comment, Ildico was almost too fit as her well muscled body would attest, she looked amazing in a swim suit with her Viking shield maiden looks and finely tuned body in Roger's humble and kept to himself, opinion.

Sheila grinned at Ildico's remark and said cheerfully, "I'm going for another lap, that was a good warm up but I do need to exert myself if I'm to stay in shape."

With that she sped off, her long legs carrying her at her normal running pace, within seconds she was out of sight, leaving Roger and Ildico standing mouths agape at her speed.

"I can never get over just how strong she is, or how fast." muttered Ildico.

Roger grinned and said, "You should meet some of her 'sisters', they're all like that, fit beyond belief!"

"Seriously?"

"Seriously!"

"How many of them have you met?"

"Just three of them, Sheila, Helen and Deneve. Helen and Deneve are stronger than Sheila, and Helen is a world class rally car driver and pilot, a ride in her car is not easily forgotten!"

"Scary fast?"

"Only if you don't know how good she is, yes."

"How well did you know Helen?"

"We dated for a time."

Ildico grinned roguishly, "Do tell!"

Roger chuckled and replied, "She is an amazing woman with a heart of gold and it was her choice to end it, not mine."

"Oh?"

"She didn't want to watch me grow old and die on her."

Ildico sighed and remarked, "That's kinda sad really, to live so long that everyone you know eventually passes on while you never age. Not so sure I would want to be like that, to be honest."

She smiled at him and said, "Well, that's enough philosophy for one day, I'm catching a shower, a bit of breakfast, then it's off to the mines!"

They hugged each other briefly, then Roger trotted up to the huge house he lived in with a young giantess.

Once back inside, he took a quick shower and after a change of clothes, he was entering the kitchen, drawn there by the aromas emanating from Silky's cooking.

This time she was cooking American diner food and Roger soon had a plate loaded with a Denver omelet, home fries and a couple of strips of bacon, crisply done to a slightly crunchy finish.

With plate in one hand and his coffee mug in the other, he settled down next to a slightly bleary eyed Anita Larsen.

He nodded at her and she mumbled "G'mornin'"

"Late night?" he asked and she muttered, "Plot bunny at 3 AM, I couldn't ignore it and it wouldn't go away."

"Ah"

She smiled weakly and murmured, "I did get a pretty good portion of it down and can flesh it out further when I'm more awake."

"Hence the big mug of coffee?"

"Last resort, I ran out of Gudrun's wide awake tea two days ago."

"Gotcha!"

Finishing up her breakfast, Anita gathered her things, placed the dishes in the sink and toddled back to her room, large mug of coffee in hand.

Roger had finished his own breakfast by the time Sheila came in from her morning run, glistening with sweat.

He saluted her with his coffee mug as she came in with a grin on her pretty face and she said cheerfully, "That, was a good run! I had the road mostly to myself and I could really step it out, I figure I was hitting a two minute per mile pace at least."

Roger nearly spluttered in his coffee and he gasped, "You're running almost 30 miles an hour, and no one saw you?"

"No one saw me, I made sure of that." she replied with a grin.

"Just how fast can you run?"

"In a sprint? About twice that and if I have to 'phantom'? Much faster than that, that's a move only used in combat and sparingly at that."

Roger thought a moment and asked, "Can all of you run at those kind of speeds?"

Sheila gulped down a glass of water and replied, "We all can run like that, we had to be able to run like that in order to get from one assignment to the next, or so I am told."

"So you were told?"

"Yep!" she grinned, "Teresa and I took off before I got my first assignment even though I had just gotten my ranking number...It's a very long story."

"I'll bet it is, Anastasia has alluded to you writing down your story and that it is a long one."

Sheila sighed and said quietly, "So many memories to sort through, you wouldn't believe what I thought I'd forgotten! Fortunately, I have my sisters to remind me when I forget and Riful will correct me if I'm wrong about a detail."

"Riful? That's not a name I've heard before, was she a Claymore too?"

"Yes, and no, Riful was a Claymore warrior like the rest of us, only she awakened and became a creature of the abyss known as Riful of the West...Again, it's a very long story and I need to catch a shower before I start stinking up the place!"

She grinned at him, then traipsed down the hallway with Roger calling after her, "I wanna see that book when its done!"

"Yes, sir!" he heard her reply before she closed the bathroom door.

Heading outside, he stopped by the tool shed and grabbed a grubbing hoe.

He had some weed abatement work to do and the heavy bladed hoe made light work of it.

Seeing Freya looking over their flock of woolybugs with a critical eye, he stopped to say hello.

"It's not yet shearing time is it? Don't we usually wait 'til spring?"

Freya sighed and remarked, "Somethings got them oan edge, it's loch they're expectin' somethin' bad tae happen."

She pointed and said, "Swatch at their eyes, there's a fear in them."

Roger squinted as he peered at them and finally said, "I'll have to take your word for it, I don't really see what you're pointing out."

He looked up at his towering companion and said, "Do you want to put them in the barn with Samson? There is room in that extra stall."

"'at soonds loch a guid idea, we can pit them in thaur at nicht. Naethin' wull bortha them durin' daylecht hoors."

"I'll help you get them inside late this afternoon, right now I've got some weeds to abate!" He said as he shouldered his hoe and turned to leave.

Freya grinned at him and said, "Ah'll see ye at lunch!"

"It's a date!" he said as he walked away and headed up to the rows of fruit trees to start weeding.

He had gotten about halfway along his second row of fruit trees when he heard the soft clopping of Flora's delicate hooves as she approached.

Glancing in her direction he saw at once she looked nervous and her nudity had nothing to do with it, something was on her mind.

Leaning on his hoe he said, "You all right? You look a little keyed up."

Making it a point not to glance down at her splendid nudity, he watched her face for a reaction to his query.

She visibly relaxed at his comment and replied, "It's fine now, the sun is up, but last night I barely got any sleep, I was on edge much of the night. It was like something bad was about to happen and I needed to be alert."

"Did you see or hear anything out of the ordinary?" he asked.

Unconsciously hugging herself, Flora said, "It wasn't so much seeing or hearing anything out of the ordinary. It was like an anticipation, like everything was holding its breath? I lack the words to describe the feeling."

Roger glanced around, in broad daylight everything looked peaceful as always, but he knew from experience how deceptive that look could be.

"Okay, you're the second person who has said something similar today."

Flora looked at him and said, "Who else said something?"

"Freya did, just a little while ago, she said the woolybugs seemed to be on edge about something. Said there was a fear in their eyes."

He looked at her and asked, "Would you feel safer in the house tonight? You know there's plenty of room. Although you might want to cover up, you know how Silky is."

Flora was about to reply when he noticed the wolvies outside the house, with their noses down and great ears angling about, trying to catch any stray sounds out of the ordinary. They were onto something and investigating.

Roger looked at Flora again and said firmly, "You need to get your things and come down to the house, you'll be staying with us, I'll help you pack!"

"O, okay..."

Taking the young northern wood nymph by the hand, he walked with her up to the huge oak tree she lived in.

Even mighty Samson seemed to be a little edgy this morning and as big as he is, that was noteworthy.

Very few things bothered him, but something was bothering him now.

This was not good.

Roger stood outside Flora's little den while she slipped inside, put on her coveralls and gathered her clothing and a few personal items, such as her favorite hair brush and toothbrush.

On the way back to the house they stopped to see how Samson was doing.

As always, he greeted Flora with an appreciative nicker and gratefully accepted the carrots she offered him.

While Flora murmured in Samson's ear, Roger looked around the small barn for any signs of mischief.

Everything looked normal, even the small door he'd provided in case some of the wood elves needed some tools, was closed and locked.

Nothing was missing.

Nor were there any odd footprints traipsing about.

Taking a few minutes to top off the hay rack and oats bucket, he checked the watering guzzler and made ready to leave.

Seeing Flora smiling as she talked to Samson, he checked to see if there was room for him to set up a folding cot in case he decided to stay with Samson, with shotgun and flashlight nearby.

He smiled to himself, Dena would not like him sleeping in the barn, in a narrow cot, with no room for her tiny self.

As he turned to leave the small barn, he noted the calendar hanging on the wall and a couple of days away was marked 'Hunter's moon' in red.

The term jogged a memory, hunter's moon was the occasional second full moon during October and he found himself wondering if it didn't also coincide with the wild hunt, when the dark god Cernunnos led the hunt for any unwary fae who'd failed to heed the warnings of the older ones.

As they walked down to the house carrying her things, Roger was pondering the dates ominously circled in red he'd noticed on the calendar in the barn.

Only Freya would have bothered to keep track of that sort of thing and he made note to ask her about it.

Freya was standing by the nervous woolybugs and when she saw them approaching she smiled and said, "An' whaur ur ye twa gonnae wi' 'er things?"

Roger simply replied, "She's moving into the house for the time being. Whatever it is that is bothering the woolybugs, is also bothering her and Samson."

Gesturing towards the wolvies out sniffing around and scent marking here and there, he said, "They're noticing it too."

"Whit dae ye hink it micht be?" Freya asked, a slight frown marring her forehead.

"I'm not sure, although I do have a notion of what it might be."

"An' 'at woods be?"

Roger looked up at his towering companion and said, "I noticed that the calendar in the barn has the next couple of days marked in red and 'hunter's moon' is written across them. Do you think there might be a connection between this hunter's moon and the wild hunt of legend?"

Freya sighed and said quietly, "Ah fear thaur micht be sich a connection. Hunter's moon rarely happens sae close tae Samhain an' sae diz th' wild hunt, there's too much ay a coincidence tae ignair!"

Roger frowned at her remarks and said, "I was afraid you were gonna say that. With all the neighbors now living around here, we could experience a raid during those few days."

Turning her back on the huddled flock of woolybugs, Freya joined them as they continued towards the big house, their fortress against things that go bump in the night.

As they walked Roger asked, "Do you think placing sprigs of spruce on the doors and windows will keep our house safe?"

Freya pondered his question and replied," It cannae hurt onie tae put sprigs ay spruce aroond th' hoose an' barn. P'raps holly an' ivy will help too."

Roger smiled and said cheerfully, "Welp, I know what we're doing tonight! We're making cantrips and wards."

Flora cleared her throat and asked, "Would any of these protect my den as well?"

Freya replied thoughtfully,"Maur than likely they woods help, however if they didne help, yoo'd be by yerself an' coods be in real trooble."

Roger said helpfully, "If you like, we can place a couple of these wards on your den but to be safe and one less person to worry about, I'd prefer you stayed with us for the time being. It's not like we don't have the room!"

Freya grinned and said, "An' dornt ye even hink ay sleepin' wi Roger, oanly Dena an' meself gets tae kip wi' heem!"

Flora giggled and said gaily, "Yes, ma'am! I won't even think about it."

Entering the house Roger let Freya get Flora settled in while he sought out Silky.

The silk clad house spirit stood silently while he related to her Freya's and his observations and concerns about the impending 'hunter's moon' and its near coincidence with Samhain.

He concluded his remarks by saying, "We are going to be preparing some wards and cantrips for placing on the barn, Flora's den and this house, so we'll be up late and taking over the dining room and its big table."

He smiled at her and she smiled slightly back as he said, "We'll be fine inside this house with our wolvies and ourselves to protect it. Don't forget we have a spriggan outside and a powerful warrior on our side."

He grinned at her, "Besides Sheila, I have combat experience, I think Anastasia has a few tricks up her sleeve and we already know Freya swings a mean cudgel!"

Leaving Silky to her devices, Roger found Freya and said, "We've got the dining room and table for tonight, now we need to gather up some spruce, some holly and some ivy."

A short time later, with the gigantic wolves acting as escorts. Roger and Freya set out to gather the items needed for making the wards and cantrips they'll be needing.

Using a bronze bladed bill hook, Freya reached up and snipped off several nice spruce branches which Roger caught before they hit the ground.

The idea being not to let the spruce branches come in contact with either iron, or the ground.

That way their effectiveness would be retained.

The holly sprigs and the ivy vines were gathered in a similar manner and having secured the necessary ingredients from the woodsy area near the barn, they returned to the house and found everyone waiting for them in the dining room.

Anita grinned at their looks of surprise and said, "Flora told me about what is going on, so I got out the tools we'll need and gathered the troops, so to speak."

Laid out on the large table was several bronze bladed pruning clippers, a couple of balls of hemp twine and a few silk ribbons, strictly for decoration.

Standing around the table was Warren Johnson, Sheila Ericcson, Anastasia Karloff, Flora Oakenwood and Anita Larsen.

Standing on the table in all her tiny glory was Dena Greenwood.

Nearby was a tea cart laden with tea and nibblies, courtesy of Silky.

Freya smiled at everyone and said,"Roger an' Ah hae decided tae place wards and cantrips oan thes hoose, th' barn, Flora's den an' Warren's cottage. We hae a feelin' 'at we can expect a wild hunt tae occur verra suin."

While everyone was glancing at each other, Roger said quietly, "The wild hunt is something that happens very rarely as it requires a second full moon to occur near Samhain, or Hallowe'en if you'd prefer. That second full moon is known as 'hunter's moon' an it marks the beginning of the fall hunting season for most people, for the fae it means the wild hunt is nigh."

Seeing blank looks on a couple of the people there, he elaborated. "The wild hunt is when Cernunnos, the dark god leads a pandemonium of boggarts across the night's dark lands in search of unwary fae."

"Those of us who have the 'sight' have reason to be concerned as they will be after us too. For the simple reason that we can see them."

He gestured at the array of tools and ingredients laid out neatly on the table. "Hence the reason for all this!"

Anita asked quietly, "This dark god, he really exists?"

Roger stifled a chuckle and he replied gently, "I'm actually a little surprised you would ask that, especially after all you've seen since coming here.

"Yes, he does exist although it is in a greatly diminished form as so few still believe in him these days. Although the neo pagans have unwittingly given him and his lady a bit of a revival, if you will."

Roger looked around at everyone and said, "Freya and I had an encounter with the two of them some years ago, it was while we were out gathering mistletoe and very fortunately for us, she accepted our gift of mistletoe as an offering.

"To them, we were little more than insects that they chose to spare, it was very scary and since then, neither of us goes into the woods without a bit of iron on us or our wolvies close by."

"A bit of iron?" asked Warren "can they sense it?"

"Yes, they can. Usually a pocketknife is sufficient to ward them off, I also like to wear a sprig of spruce as extra protection."

"Ah, a pocketknife I have already, do I need a sprig of spruce as well?"

Roger grinned, "I personally think you'll be fine with a knife and Astrid by your side."

Warren smiled wistfully and glanced into the front parlour with its ever present cheery blaze and the mounded forms of the gigantic wolves snoozing peacefully beneath their winged covering of tiny sprites.

"Although to prevent prankage, we'll make a couple of wards for your cottage for just in case." he concluded with a wink.

Soon, everyone was seated at the massive table busily tying small bundles of spruce, holly and ivy into a decorative item meant to be hung outside doors or windows.

To the uninitiated, it was a festive bit of holiday decor and to those in the know, it was a barrier to the mischievous neighbor seeking to do harm to the house or those within.

Warren looked up from his work and said, "How many will we need for the library building?"

Freya looked up from her work and replied,"Ah dornt hink onie will be needed wi' aw th' Rowan trees surroondin' th' buildin', they're a natural barrier tae onie mischievoos fae."

She grinned, "Ah hink some ay th' mair 'lively' trees will tak' exception tae onie mischief gonnae oan, myself."

At Warren's puzzled look, Roger said, "Remember the huorns from Lord of the rings and how they dealt with those orcs?"

"Yes? And what do they have to do with our situation?"

Roger smiled, "We have several tree spirits living here and a part of the Green woman. Freya and I have seen them in person. Before you guys came here, the library building had trees growing right up against it and I felt they had to be cut down.

"One day I noticed many of them had moved, not just by inches, but by several feet. That night I had my first encounter with the Green woman and the next morning I awoke to find that all the trees slated for removal had moved themselves. Hence my conclusion that Tolkien's huorns may have been inspired by an old legend he knew about."

Roger nearly laughed at Warren's big eyed expression and when he finally whispered, "We have huorns living here? What's next, Ents?"

Roger grinned and said, "You need to get away from those book stacks and spend some time just wandering about the estate. We've removed a number of steel fences and relocated boundary stones, thus giving these 'active' trees room to move about as they wished."

Warren asked, "So what happened to any trees that couldn't move?"

"Those were native species mostly, Sheila just cut them down for firewood. In fact we're only just now coming to the end of that woodpile."

Roger grinned, "She wanted a little light exercise and it was fun watching her cut a tree down, then cutting it into handy lengths as it toppled, it was quite a show really. No video though, sorry."

Warren glanced over at the towering, flaxen haired erstwhile warrior sitting across from him, the muscles in her shapely arms working as her fingers deftly twisted and tied the green bundles into a cantrip intended for a doorway.

"Yes, I'm sorry too." he muttered.

When they had used up all the spruce, the holly and the ivy there was a greenish pile of decorative vegetation all ready to be hung up.

The huge grandfather clock tolled the hour of ten P.M. And Roger commented, "No sense trying to hang any of this stuff tonight, may as well enjoy the rest of the evening before beddy bye time."

He glanced at Warren, "You staying here tonight? There's plenty of room you know, and Astrid looks mighty comfy lying in front of Salamander's fireplace, with her spritely coterie all abed."

Warren chuckled and remarked, "Yes, it would be a shame to disturb such furry bliss."

Freya said quietly, "Ah'm gang tae see abit th' woolybugs meself."

"Hold up, I'll go with you, let me fetch a wolf first." Declared Roger.

He gave a low whistle and Sasha rose to her feet, causing a scattering of sprites all tittering in protest at her sudden movement.

"You can have her back once we're finished, I promise." He said to them.

Taking up a couple of the wards and cantrips they'd made, Roger followed his giant companion outside.

The sky was clear and the light of the gibbous moon lit their way, only a few more days to go until hunter's moon took place and after that, a couple of more days until Samhain or Hallowe'en arrived.

Sasha seemed to be at ease as they went to see about the woolybug flock, Roger took that as a good sign.

A nervous wolf would make for a nervous Roger, and a nervous Roger would be craving a weapon at hand.

At present, all he had was a bit of greenery as a ward for his protection.

The woolybugs were tightly clustered, partly for warmth and partly for reassurance in their numbers, their wooly coats gleaming in the soft lunar light.

Freya did a quick tally and said, "Guid, they're aw haur!"

She reached into the thick of the flock and pulled up the largest one, apparently the leader of the flock by virtue of its size alone.

Cradling the weakly struggling woolybug in her arms, Freya walked up to Samson's barn with the rest of the flock following closely.

Trotting ahead, Roger opened the side door of the small barn and heard Samson's nicker of curiosity, he wanted to know what was going on that called for all this sudden commotion at night.

Roger said quietly as he handed the big horse some carrots as a pacifier, "Everything's fine big guy, we're just bringing the flock in for the night."

Samson's nickered reply sounded almost as if he didn't quite believe what Roger had just said.

Stepping back outside and taking a moment to hang the greenery outside the barn, Roger watched as Freya brought the clustered woolybugs inside and led them into the extra stall where she put down their leader.

They rustled around a bit as they reassured themselves that their leader was okay, then they settled down to sleep.

While Freya was seeing to it that Samson was all right he said, "I hung the cantrip outside, so this building should be okay for the next few days."

Closing the barn door behind them, Freya took Roger's hand and they headed back down to the big house.

As they walked Roger said softly, "It's such a beautiful night, with the waxing moon so bright and so close to Hallowe'en with winter not too far off."

Sighing he said, "By this time next year, you will have graduated from high school and getting ready to enter college. It seems like only yesterday you experienced your first Hallowe'en and ate too much candy!"

Freya chuckled and said softly, "Och aye, Ah remember it well, Ah'd ne'er tasted candy afore, it war sae sweet an' guid, Ah didne hink it woods mak' me boak."

Freya turned to him and they embraced.

Because she was nearly her adult height, Roger almost felt like he was being engulfed by her aunt Barbara, but Freya's slender build felt wonderful and he relished in her warm embrace.

After a few moments of bliss he looked up at his towering companion and she bent over and kissed him, her velvet lips so softly pressing against his.

Time seemed to slow as they kissed and yet it, like all good things, ended way too soon.

Their lips parted reluctantly and they released each other before either one of them could blurt out their innermost feelings.

It wasn't time, not yet.

"Yes, it is sich a beautiful nicht." Murmured Freya.

Sasha pressed her cold, wet nose against Roger's cheek and he squawked, "Okay! I get it, you want back inside where it's warm, next to the fire. Enough with the cold wet nose already!"

Freya laughed and they went back inside so Sasha could rejoin her mate next to the cheery blaze.

Within moments of her lying down, she was covered with lacy wings, all fluttering and jostling as her coterie of sprites made themselves at home.

Freya announced, "Th' woolybugs're snug in th' barn wi' Samson an' Roger hung th' cantrip oan th' barn itself. They'll be safe noo."

Anita smiled and said, "That's good, they're such gentle creatures with their soft wooly coats so warm against me on a cold night. I can't imagine anything wanting to harm one of them, it's just so sad to think about."

She looked over at Flora and said amiably, "You can stay with me in my room if you like, there's always room for two in my bed!"

Flora smiled and nodded a yes, to Anita's obvious delight.

Anastasia said teasingly, "Don't you two make too much noise tonight, these walls aren't so thick that I wouldn't be able to hear any cavorting going on!"

Anita flushed a lovely shade of nearly scarlet and she spluttered, "N, Nothing's gonna happen, I swear!"

As if on cue Warren cleared his throat and said, "If it's all the same to you, I'll be fine on the couch in the front parlour where Astrid can keep an eye on me and I can enjoy the fire."

Flora suddenly said, "Anita, why don't we camp out in the front parlour instead of in your bedroom? I've slept in there several times now and always got a good night's sleep.

"That way, we've less chance of tripping over Axel if we need to use the toilet during the night."

Anita looked thoughtful, then she nodded a yes and said cheerfully, "We've got plenty of extra bedding in the big closet, we can just grab whatever we'll need from there."

Roger simply smiled as he stood up and went into the kitchen to pour a cup of fresh, heavy cream for Silky to enjoy.

Placing it on the countertop he said softly, "Thanks for all you do, Silky dear."

Turning to leave the kitchen he heard once again, the faint rustling of silken garments and knew without needing to look, that the cup of cream would be gone.

With everyone settled for the night, Roger and Freya made for her bedroom where her huge bed could accommodate the two, no three of them as Dena per her usual custom, was joining them in slumber.

Stripping down to their underwear, Roger couldn't help noticing how nice Freya's body looked at 16 years of age.

How firm and supple she was at nearly her full growth.

She was nearly an adult now and was nearing the age when she would declare her heart's desire at her coming of age ceremony.

He tried not to think too hard about that, it was still almost two years away, almost long enough for him to prepare for the worst that could happen.

Which in his mind, was her leaving him for a young Jotun man of her choice.

He knew she was friendly with several of them, although she didn't seem to be particularly interested in any of them, not that he could see.

They lay down together and as usual, a very naked and curvy little wood elf named Dena Greenwood slipped in between them, effectively forestalling any romantic inclinations either of them may have had.

Thwarted by a wood elf, as Roger once put it to no one in particular.

The next thing he knew it was morning, he'd slept soundly through the night.

An almost unusual occurrence, considering the season.

Heretofore this year, Roger had experienced several close encounters of the neighborly kind around this time of year and he couldn't help thinking about that as he tucked into his breakfast and sipped his coffee.

Something was definitely up, he felt.

The rest of the day was spent in securing both the house and the library complex by hanging the cantrips disguised as decorations on every door and window that could easily be reached.

Even the half basement windows got the treatment, it was done even though they were kept locked up tightly as a matter of course.

Only Silky's bedroom windows were left unlocked and heaven help the fool who disturbed her rest.

Sheila prepared for any eventuality by working out with her massive sword, the huge sword that gave her and her sisters the nickname 'Claymore".

Roger meanwhile had gotten out his own weapon of choice, his long handled gardening spade.

He clamped it in his bench vise and used his angle grinder to put a keen edge across its blade and along its sides, turning it into an effective slashing and chopping weapon for close quarters combat.

He also checked out Freya's huge cudgel, shod with iron and scaled to her size, it made for a formidable weapon in her capable hands.

Lastly, he got out something he never thought they'd be needing, the spiked collars and protective vests to be worn by the giant wolves in case of an attack.

When he approached Sasha with her vest and spiked collar, she seemed to understand that it was deemed necessary and she tenderly licked his hands while he draped the vest over her and fastened it in place.

Roger was nearly in tears by the time he'd finished with her collar and had impulsively hugged her tightly in spite of her spiky exterior.

The thought of his beloved Sasha involved in such a dangerous situation saddened him.

It was an emotional moment for Freya, Warren and Anita as they in turn, prepared their own guardian wolves for combat.

"Do we have any guns?" asked Anita out of the blue.

When Roger glanced over at her she said, "You have that old rifle don't you, wouldn't that help?"

"I'm not sure to be honest, copper jacketed bullets may not have much effect on fae creatures and I don't have access to any silver bullets on such short notice."

Anita frowned and said, "Then just how effective is hitting them with a shovel going to be?"

Roger chuckled and replied, "Fae don't like iron, they really don't like it. It's freezing cold to them, ever notice how Silky always wears gloves around the house? Especially when she's cooking? It's to protect her from accidentally contacting cold iron."

"Besides, a shovel won't run out of ammunition!"

"Oh, I never thought about that aspect of it."

"Would a shotgun be effective?"

"That I don't know, although a charge of buckshot at close range packs quite a wallop. It may not kill a fae creature but it would certainly hurt one."

Roger smiled at the diminutive teenager and said, "Would you feel safer if we had one handy?"

At Anita's affirmative nod he said, "I'll be right back!"

Roger left the front parlour for a few minutes and when he came back he was carrying a black shotgun in one hand and a box of shells in the other.

He laid the matte finished weapon on the low table and set the unopened box next to it.

"This is an Ithaca 'Hogslayer' pump shotgun. It is made for boar hunting, holds eight rounds and is designed for either rifled slugs or buckshot. The box is double ought buckshot. It's my back up gun in case my granddad's Marlin breaks on me or gets lost."

Anita gazed at the blackened pump actioned shotgun and muttered, "It's kinda scary looking, does it kick real bad?"

Roger chuckled and said, "It does have a kick, all guns do. However, when the shit's flying, you'll never even notice if it kicks or not!"

He glanced over at Warren and said, "Ever handle one of these?"

Warren muttered, "My dad's friend let me shoot his 12 gauge a few times, but that was years ago."

Looking at the two of them Roger said, "I'm going to give you two a crash course in the care and feeding of a pump shotty, as they say in gaming."

Taking up the gun, Roger beckoned to them and they followed him out behind the house.

Unbeknownst to him Flora tagged along to watch.

Once outside he noticed Flora, nodded at her and said, "Rule number one with any firearm, always assume it's loaded. Period!"

For the next hour, Roger put them through a brief training course which included, loading and unloading the weapon using dummy rounds. Clearing the weapon, tips on aiming it and dry firing it

Disassembling and cleaning the gun after firing, reassembling it and putting it away for storage.

When he was finished, he grinned at them and said, "Congratulations!You've learned just enough to be dangerous. I'm going to load the gun with double ought buckshot and put a red tag on it, to mark it as being loaded."

He held up an admonishing finger, "Do not fire it unless it is really necessary, the noise will bring the cops if nothing else and we don't need them poking around looking for things, while we try to explain what happened; I'm not that good a liar."

Once back inside the big house, Roger placed the loaded Ithaca inside the narrow closet next to the front parlour and closed the door.

Having settled that issue, Roger stepped back and sighed, had they done enough? He wondered.

Freya came up to him and said quietly, "Ah need tae check oan th' woolybugs, cam wi' me?"

Acceding to her request, the two of them left the house with tools in hand and trekked up to the barn and corral.

As they walked, Roger wondered what Warren and Sheila had been talking about just as they were leaving to see about some bugs.

Hearing a soft clopping of hooves behind them, they turned to see Flora trotting up to them with a determined look on her face.

"I wanted to see how Samson's getting along!" She said breathlessly when she'd caught up to them.

Roger grinned at her and said, "He'll appreciate your seeing him."

Flora smiled as she slipped an arm through his and they resumed their trek.

Freya said nothing, not bothering to react to Flora's show of affection with Roger.

He'd saved her life, she had a right to be grateful so long as she didn't go too far.

Arriving at the barn, they let themselves in and while Roger kept an eye out, Flora visited with the enormous horse known as mighty Samson.

He nickered softly while Flora cooed and talked softly to him while feeding him a handful of carrots and refilling his hay rack.

Freya looked over her flock of woolybugs and they clustered nervously around her feet as she spoke to them in soothing tones, her hands gently touching them one by one.

Seeing nothing of interest going on, Roger scooped up Samson's equally enormous droppings and carried them out to the growing pile of manure waiting to be added to the mulch pile, and broken down into nutrient rich soil.

Satisfied that their charges were comfortable, fed and safe, the two young women closed the barn and walked with Roger back down to the house.

This time, Freya took him by the hand while Flora merely smiled knowingly, she knew they slept together, what she didn't understand, was why Freya was still a virgin.

What was Roger holding back for? Was Dena acting as a chaperone even though she too, slept with Roger?

Flora merely shook her head at their apparent celibacy, sex was meant to be enjoyed otherwise, why bother? She thought.

Back at the house they saw at once what Warren and Sheila had been up to, they had gone up to the cottage he lived in and fetched his halberd, chain mail and helmet.

Thusly arrayed, he was grinning at them when they came into the front parlour where Anastasia and Anita were still holding court.

Roger chuckled and said, " T'would appear that you have acquired a man at arms kit. Do you know how to use it?"

Sheila smiled and said cheerfully, "He's had this stuff for years and while he's had some training through his old guild, I've been giving him a bit of training to refine his skills."

She glanced over at Warren and said frankly, "Against an experienced halberdier, he wouldn't last long. Against an unarmed, untrained opponent, he'll be okay. Besides, I'll be right nearby, if he gets in too deep, I'll step in."

Roger smiled at Warren and said, "Stick close to Sheila, okay?"

Warren grinned and gave him a thumb's up.

He knew the score, stick close to the towering ancient warrior and he would live to see another day.

Stepping back outside the house, Roger looked to the west.

While the sky was darkening rapidly, the moon had yet to rise for him to see.

According to the calendar, it was supposed to be full tonight, the hunter's moon, the night of the wild hunt.

Samhain was still two days away, would the wild hunt happen tonight? He wondered as he went back inside to add more wood to the fireplace Salamander lived in.

Roger suddenly flashed on the upcoming Samhain festival coming up in two more days, it was now too late to cancel the event.

How would they protect the attendees?

Roger suddenly had a splitting headache...Crap!

Wondering what to do, Roger consulted Dena who seemed to know an awful lot about things like this.

She stood quietly listening to his question about the wild hunt and after a few moments of pondering his questions.

She replied,"Ah dornt hink onie non fae hae anythin' tae warry abit. Tae them it will swatch loch a st'rm clood rollin' o'er th' lain wi' lightnin' flashes gonnae ben th' cloods."

"So, I'm being a worry wart then?"

She grinned, "Yoo're aye a fash yerse wart when it comes tae us in yer caur, an' that's wa we aw loove ye sae."

Roger felt his cheeks warming as they reddened at her remarks.

Dena, had gotten him yet again!

"Okay, you got me. How are your people situated?"

"Mah fowk ur verra guid at hidin' at times loch these, they'll ne'er fin' us." replied the curvy little wood elf.

Smiling at her reply Roger glanced at the clock and decided he had time to take a brief nap before midnight, the time when the wild hunt would most likely occur.

He called out, "If you can, I would suggest grabbing a bit of shut eye before midnight, that way you'll be a bit more alert. Coffee alone won't keep you on your toes."

Hardly had he lain down to catch a few winks when Anita's voice said, "It's getting kinda stormy outside!"

Sitting up to collect his wits, Roger could hear the wind getting stronger outside and as the wind flowed around the big house, with all its angles and projections, eerie moaning and wailing sounds could be heard with the occasional sound of something clattering along outside, an unsecured bit picked up by the wind and tumbled along helplessly.

A storm shutter upstairs came loose and set up a terrific clattering as it swung wildly on its hinges, adding to the din.

Freya cried, "Ah'll get it!" and she dashed upstairs, taking them three at a time.

To make things even worse, the baby monitor that had been installed in the barn came on and the sounds of something pounding on the barn doors and the nervous whinnying of Samson came through loud and clear.

At that point Sasha and Goldeneyes were waiting by the side door whining to get out, their eyes had an almost feral gleam in them.

Roger looked over at Sheila and said, "You up to some rough and tumble?"

Sheila hefted her massive sword and grinned, she was ready.

Grabbing up his sharpened spade, he opened the side door and released the great guardian wolves of the north lands.

The wolvies tore outside, growling and snapping their massive jaws, Roger followed as best he could with Sheila right beside him, her sword at the ready.

The howling gale forced both of them to lean forward as they tried to force their way through the invisible torrent of air coming down the hill.

His eyes watered freely as he blinked rapidly to keep the dust and windblown grit out of his eyes.

He heard a snapping sound as a tree limb was torn loose somewhere up ahead of him and hurled down the hill, tumbling as it went.

They could hear the pounding noise now, as if something large was trying to get into the barn.

The pounding stopped as the wolvies attacked without hesitation, their powerful jaws tearing into the night creature.

Drawing near, Roger squinted against the gale and was barely able to make out a darkness within the darkness of the barn's bulk.

"Samson!" cried Flora's voice trying to make herself heard over the gale as she struggled to catch up to them, in her hands she was clutching the Ithaca shotgun.

"Samson!" she cried again and moments later there was a crunching sound as the side of the barn suddenly bulged outward and Samson's massive hoofs crashed through the wall, knocking the darkness off its feet.

His steel shod hooves measuring nearly a foot across and driven by the powerful muscles of his hind legs, delivered a kick that simply flattened the largest of the creatures attempting to break into the barn.

Sheila stepped in and quickly chopped it in half before it could recover while Roger swung his spade and had the satisfaction of feeling it make something go down for good.

More dimly seen creatures emerged from the darkness and Flora screamed as she fired the Ithaca at the nearest one.

The charge of double ought buckshot caught it square and it dropped like a stone while the wolvies went after the other ones.

They had barely finished off the creatures attacking the barn when they heard a tumultuous thundering of hooves and a baying of spectral hounds, as the wild hunt had arrived.

Against the darkness of the hunt, they could see a glimmering of white leaping and bounding ahead of the night's hunting party.

Flora raised her shotgun and Roger restrained her, "Hold your fire!" he said hoarsely.

The glimmering of white resolved itself into an enormous white stag, leaping and bounding to stay ahead of its hunters.

Its breath coming in great steamy puffs as it gasped while trying to stay ahead of the wild pack.

The giant wolvies charged into its pursuers, their great jaws biting great hunks out of the horde of night gaunts and boggarts hot on the great stag's tail.

Flora suddenly cried out, "Come here! You'll be safe with us!"

The white stag veered from its course and ran towards them seeking refuge.

Skidding to a halt, the great stag turned to face its pursuers and was joined by mighty Samson who began rearing and lashing out with his massive steel shod fore feet.

Roger and Sheila were both simply brushed aside as the true form of the spriggan now stepped into the fray.

Towering some fifteen feet tall, the massive spriggan joined Samson and the great stag in defense of the house and its tenants.

Faced by three such powerful opponents in a fighting mood, the tumult of night creatures flowed around them rather than fight them.

And as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

The winds calmed down, the clouds blew away, the spriggan shrank back to his normal size and the silvery light of the full moon washed over the darkened landscape once more.

Roger looked over at the spriggan and nodded, "Thank you!" he said as the spriggan nodded in reply and returned to his post disguised as a pile of rocks.

They heard feet pounding the ground and cries of "Are you all right?" as the rest of the unwilling participants of the wild hunt came running up the hill, weapons at the ready.

Freya arrived first and after she had clutched Roger to her bosom, "Ye scared me sae, Ah cam doon frae fixin' th' st'rm shutter when they tauld me ye had gonnae ootside wi' Sheila an' th' wolvies."

Freya looked him over carefully and asked, "Yoo're nae hurt onie ur ye?"

Roger smiled up at his towering companion and said, "I'm fine actually, never even got a scratch although you might want to look at Samson, he put up quite a fight and kicked out the barn's wall.

Warren was looking at the misshapen lumps lying here and there and he asked, "Is this what attacked you? These...Things?"

Axel and Astrid gave their parents a good going over scent wise while Anita looked them over to see if they were hurt any.

She turned on her flashlight and was about to look at the remains of the dead creatures when Roger called out, "Don't look!"

Anita looked at him in surprise and he said urgently, "For the sake of your sanity, some things are better off not being seen clearly, we'll wrap them up and bury them in the woods before daybreak."

"Will it be safe to go into these woods tonight?" she asked.

Roger shrugged and replied, "I think so, the wild hunt has passed us by and we seem to have acquired another fantastical beastie."

He gestured at the great white stag standing near Samson's massive form and Anita gasped, "He's so beautiful!"

She looked at him and asked, "Can we keep him?"

Roger smiled and said, "I think that will be up to the stag. If he wishes to stay, he will be welcome, if he wishes to leave, then he may go with our blessings."

Roger stepped over to Flora and said softly, "Here, let me have that..."

She smiled and handed him the shotgun without hesitation.

It had done its duty and would be cleaned and oiled before being put away again.

Having been relieved of her weapon, Flora stepped over to the great white stag and began introducing herself.

Freya entered the barn through the gaping hole in the wall to check on the wooly bugs huddled inside and moments later, reemerged with a big grin, "They're aw haur, we didnae lose onie!"

She glanced at the hole and muttered, "Samson wasnae kidding when he kicked oot thes wall!"

Roger approached her and said, "We need to bury the remains ASAP, I don't want anyone else to see them."

Freya took his hand and they went to look at the scattered remnants, even bathed in the silvery light of the full moon, they looked disquieting and unnatural, abominations even in death.

Roger shuddered to think what they would look like in broad daylight and he shivered involuntarily as his base instincts recoiled from the mangled horrors lying before him.

His inner lemur straining to get away from the scary things it was seeing.

Turning back to the others Roger said, "We'll deal with the cleaning up here, all of you need to get back inside the house and let us handle things here."

Anastasia said brightly, "You heard the man, let's go back down to the house, I'm sure Silky will have something for us to calm our nerves."

Warren said cheerfully, "I'd like a tankard of ale myself!"

Freya stepped into the barn and came back out with some of those cheap blue tarps, one sees almost everywhere these days.

Seeing that Flora was happily feeding handfuls of carrots to Samson and the great white stag, Roger, Sheila and Freya began bundling up the fragmentary remains while Roger commented, "When you kill something, you don't mess around do you?"

Sheila grinned and replied, "Old habits die hard I'm afraid, some of the things I've fought could reassemble themselves if they weren't chopped into many small pieces."

"Ah, nothing like a bit of overkill when the chips are down, eh?"

"Works for me!"

Being the weakest one there, Roger carried the digging tools and Sheila's great sword while she and Freya lugged the bundled remains into the darkened woods.

With little more than the moon light filtering down through the trees, they made their way to where someone had dug a large hole for reasons unknown to them.

Roger suspected it may have been dug to hide a still during prohibition, why else would anyone dig such a large hole in an area not known for its mineral deposits?

Right now, it would serve admirably for the disposing of mangled boggart remains.

Arriving at the hole, Roger set down the tools and took up his spade.

He was about to clamber down into the hole when Sheila said, "Here, let me go first."

Curious to see what she was going to do, Roger stepped back to watch.

With sword in hand, Sheila hopped down into the hole and began using it like it was a wrecking bar, she chopped downwards then levered the dirt clods out of the hole at such a rate that he and Freya stepped back so's not to get hit by a flying clod of dirt.

After a few minutes of this, Sheila leapt out of the hole and grinned at them.

"All done!" she said brightly.

Peering into the hole they saw that she had deepened the hole by several feet and it was now nearly twice as deep as before.

"I take it, you've done this before?" commented Roger.

"A few times." replied Sheila laconically.

She sighed and said quietly, "Sometimes we had to bury a companion who had died in battle and with our swords being the only tools at our disposal, we learned how to dig graves with them."

They paused a moment or two, then unceremoniously heaved the misshapen bundles into the newly deepened hole.

After that, Roger began shoveling the dirt back into the hole, pausing occasionally while Sheila hopped down into the hole and jumped up and down on the soil to pack it down somewhat.

They repeated that process until, at last Sheila leapt out of the hole and said, "That's it!"

"Let's skedaddle, it's dark out here!" cried Roger and they headed back to the house.

The crisis had passed and no one got hurt, except for the dead boggarts.

Emerging from the dark woods and into the moon's silvery light, they could see Flora still standing close to Samson and caressing his huge head.

Nearby, the great white stag was placidly munching on a small mound of rolled oats drizzled with molasses, Flora had put out for him.

He seemed to glow under the moon's silvery light as he munched contentedly and Freya commented, "Dae ye hink he'll wish tae bide?"

Roger murmured, "I have no idea, although it looks like Flora is casting him under her spell, like she did with Samson."

Freya chuckled and muttered, "Ah wonder hoo Doctor Fletcher's gonnae react when she sees heem?"

Roger smiled and said, "Of course we're assuming she'll even see him, with him being a fae creature and all."

"She'll see heem wi' an adderstane, she will."

"True that!"

Flora smiled at them as they drew near and said brightly, "He likes the rolled oats I gave him and Samson here likes him too!"

"Do you think he'll want to stay?" asked Roger.

Flora's pretty face clouded briefly and she replied, "I don't really know, if he's still here after sun up, I guess that will be our answer."

Roger smiled at the young northern wood nymph and asked, "Are you going to stay here tonight? The danger has passed, but you're still welcome to come inside if you'd like."

Flora smiled and replied, "I'm going to stay up here with my friends, thanks for offering though."

"Have a good night then, and we'll see you in the morning!"

Before leaving, they took a few moments to give Samson and his new corral mate some nice, crunchy carrots, a kind word and a gentle caress.

Putting the tools back inside the shed, they headed down to the big house looming over them in the silvery moon light.

Reentering the big house, the trio was given a quick once over by the giant wolvies now returned to their fluffy nature, the spiked collars and chest guards having been put away for future reference.

While Sheila cleaned and put away her massive sword, Roger and Freya stopped in the kitchen, poured themselves a well earned tankard of ale and entered the front parlour and saw Warren with a foaming tankard in one hand, and his own man at arms get up set aside.

He grinned at them and held up his own tankard in salute as they sat down to relax after their harrowing evening.

Anita asked, "Where's Flora?"

"She's up at the barn with her newest friend, plying him with carrots and comely speech." replied Roger with a grin.

"Do you think the white stag will stay with us?"

"I, have no idea. It's entirely up to him, although Flora is definitely trying to cast him under her spell, even as I speak."

Anita chuckled and said, "It would be incredibly cool if he decided to stay with us."

Warren asked, "Did you bury the remains already?"

Roger took a big sup, savored the flavors before he swallowed then replied, "Yes, we buried them in a very deep hole and packed the soil firmly to keep them in their rightful places."

"We are going to have do some major repairs to the barn, Samson really did a number on the wall he broke through. That big lug doesn't know his own strength!"

He grinned, "Although I wasn't complaining during the battle, those big hooves of his pack a real wallop! He just flattened whatever got in his way, like they were nothing!"

Anita murmured, "The battle of Wolf Hills, and only we got to experience it, lucky us!"

Leaning back in his chair, Roger took a long pull off his ale and said,"The sheer presence of our spriggan watchman, Samson and the white stag really made a difference, although I've got a feeling that Sheila did more than her fair share of the killing before the spriggan simply elbowed us aside."

"Who was it that fired that shot we heard?" asked Anastasia, her tea cup poised for a sip.

"Flora fired the shotgun and probably killed one of the boggarts as it flopped backwards after she fired."

He sipped his ale and said, "We didn't look too closely at the remains so I can't say which one she shot, our main concern was getting them in the ground before daybreak."

The huge grandfather clock front hallway tolled the two o'clock hour and Roger said,

"That's my cue to head for bed, boys and girls."

Finishing off his ale, Roger stood up and toddled into the kitchen to rinse out his tankard and pour a cup of fresh heavy cream for Silky.

Placing the cup on the kitchen counter he said quietly, "Silky dear, please let your friend know that his underling really helped us out tonight and that we owe him a debt of gratitude."

Hearing the soft rustling of silken garments as she took her cup of cream and left the kitchen, Roger smiled to himself, Spriggan would hear the news before dawn.

He climbed the stairs and entered his room only to find Dena curled up in his bed, her tiny form naked as usual as she snuggled under his covers.

"You missed quite the party tonight, even our spriggan got involved, in his giant form no less."

Stripping down to his undershorts Roger commented, "We even made the acquaintance of a white stag who is, at this very moment, being cast under Flora's spell."

Slipping under his covers Roger turned out the lamp and said softly, "G'night!"

Dena snuggled against him, her tiny body so curvy it just wasn't fair and she purred, "Ah'm glad nae a body got hurt tonecht."

Roger slipped his arm over her and murmured, "I am too, dear."

The next day was spent cleaning up the debris from the windstorm of the night before, at least that's what the weather reports were saying in the news.

Roger and company knew different.

It was the wild hunt that came with a full moon right around Hallowe'en and heaven help any stray 'neighbor' caught unawares!

Several older, weaker trees in the neighborhood had blown over and Portland's city forestry crews were out clearing away the wreckage, while insurance adjustors were madly scurrying about writing up claims.

To Roger's amazement, the huge pine tree out front had weathered the windstorm just fine, although its population of squirrels had spent a miserable night huddling together in their nests.

Freya was out looking over her stone fruit trees and because it was fall, they had done nicely as there were no leaves left to be stripped.

Anita had gone up to the barn to check on Flora and Samson, and was now making her acquaintance with the white stag they seem to have adopted or rather, Flora had adopted.

Noticing the large oak tree branch that ended up jammed against Roger's small truck, he decided to see where it had come from, hoping it had not come from the old oak tree Flora lived in.

While the old tree was recovering nicely from the mistletoe infestation it had been relieved of, it didn't require too much wind damage to set things back again.

He was about to head up towards the barn when he heard, "Good morning! How'd you guys do?" and turned to see Ildico Swensen RN, trudging up the street towards him.

Pausing, he replied, "So far, we seem to have done okay, and you?"

Ildico came up to him and they hugged briefly.

Being a six foot tall, athletic woman of Norse ancestry, Ildico was hard to miss and one of her hugs was not to be quickly forgotten.

She smiled and replied, "So far, so good. My oak tree looks a little skinny as it lost a lot of leaves which seem to have been scattered all over my yard. Phillip's coming over later to help me clean up some."

She looked at him closely and said quietly, "I could've sworn I heard a gun shot last night, but with all the howling winds outside, I wasn't sure. And I was not about to go outside in all that wind!"

Roger chuckled and replied, "I don't blame you, it's like the man said, it's not that the wind is blowing, it's what, the wind is blowing! I thought I heard the same thing too and this morning I found this!"

He gestured at the tree branch wedged against his small truck and said, "This could've been what we both heard."

"Any way, I'm heading up by the barn to check on things up there, want to come along?"

Ildico grinned,"Lead on, MacDuff!"

They walked up to the barn and saw Anita and Flora brushing down Samson and the white stag, whose coat glistened in the morning's light

"Woah, where'd you get him?" breathed Ildico, "He's so beautiful!"

"He showed up last night during the storm, he took refuge in the barn with Samson and he seems to like it here. Lord knows he's getting plenty of attention from pretty young women!"

"Jealous much?" said Ildico with an amused twinkle in her eye.

Roger laughed and retorted, "Actually, I don't mind sharing at all. He makes for a great distraction!"

Ildico smiled and remarked, "You know, some men would resent not being the center of attention. Especially when the attention is from 'pretty young women', as you put it."

He shrugged and replied, "I've never enjoyed being in the limelight if you will, and in my present domestic situation, celibacy seems to be the safest route to take. Crazy sounding I know, as many other men in my domestic situation would likely take advantage and play in their 'harem', as my boss put it to me one day."

"Your boss?"

"My boss is a woman named Rachel Thompson, she helped us get this place after I met Freya and her people. Her parents asked me to take her with me so she could learn about the outside world."

He smiled and said, "It's been quite an adventure!"

"So, she thinks you have a harem?"

Roger chuckled and said, "In her defense she meant it as a joke, even if it was true. I sure hadn't set out to be in this sweet pickle, but here I am!"

Ildico just rolled her eyes and grinned at him.

Moments later Anita called out, "Hi Ildi, how'd you like that wind storm last night?"

"I didn't!" she replied "I hardly got any sleep until the winds died down around midnight. Phillip is coming over in a little while to help me clean up."

"That's good."

Ildico smiled at Flora and said, "Hello Flora, you're looking good, it's nice to see you."

Flora smiled at Ildico as she continued brushing the white stag's gleaming coat and said, "It's nice to see you too!"

Ildico looked over the white stag and gushed, "He's so beautiful! When did you guys get him?"

Reaching into the bucket of freshly washed carrots, Ildico offered some to the gleaming stag and as he noshed on her offering, she said softly, "Hello beautiful, and what is your name big fellah?"

Flora paused in her brushing and said gaily, "We haven't decided yet, he just got here!"

"Really?"

"Really, really! He came during the windstorm last night. Roger, myself and Sheila were all up here seeing to Samson's needs and calming him down after he'd kicked through the wall because of the winds. This guy just came running towards us from out of the dark and just huddled with Samson until the winds blew over and died down."

Flora beamed and said cheerfully, "He was like a moonbeam coming through the clouds, he was almost glowing in the darkness!"

Ildico chuckled and said, "You could always call him Moon Beam, or even Moonbeam Windstorm."

The white stag nuzzled his head against Ildico's cheek and she laughed as she gave him more carrots, "I think he likes me!"

Flora grinned and said, "I think you've just given him his name, Moonbeam Windstorm, I like it!"

Ildico smiled and said, "My very Swedish grandmother told me about things like the white stag and the wild hunt, about how the ancient pagans saw their world and dealt with life."

She looked at Flora's curving horns, tufted deerlike ears and deerlike legs then said, "Come to think of it, you came here yourself during some sort of an attack. An attack that left you all scratched and banged up as I recall, I remember those scratches very clearly because I stitched them all up!"

Flora smiled at the tall, athletic ER nurse and said, "And for that, I will always be grateful, the scars are barely visible now, thanks to your skills with a needle!"

Ildico laughed and replied, "Don't thank me, thank my grandmother, she's the one who taught me how to embroider. I just apply what she taught me to applying sutures!"

They shared a laugh over that and as they continued chatting, Roger looked over the damage Samson had done to the barn.

Surprisingly, much of the damage was largely cosmetic, only a few of the boards would have to be replaced and those were the ones that got the brunt of Samson's powerful kicks.

He would hit the used lumber yard later on this week, if they weren't too swamped by people needing lumber because of last night's winds.

Looking inside, he noticed the woolybugs had taken up residence in the stall he and Freya had placed them in.

It seemed the barn would need to be enlarged and fairly soon.

Hearing a faint tittering he looked up and all along the top plate where the rafters joined the walls, were huddled the wild sprites who had taken refuge from the winds of the night before.

They looked down at him, their tiny eyes blinking in the soft light as they huddled together.

He smiled at them and said, "Hello everybody, I'm Roger and you're welcome to stay so long as you behave yourselves. And yes, I can see you!"

The tittering grew in volume as the huddled sprites looked at each other in surprise, this man could see them!

Making a mental note to send Maribel up to talk to them, he returned to Ildico, Flora and Anita.

"Well ladies, the barn did better than I expected. I'll have to replace a few boards, but that's better than replacing the whole thing!"

He grinned, "The woolybugs have taken up residence in stall number two it seems, and if Moonbeam here decides to stick around, we'll have to expand the barn to four stalls."

Ildico looked at him and said, "Woolybugs? You mean those white fluffy things I see in your yard, is that what you call them?"

"That would be they, yes. And I'm a little surprised you noticed them, most people would never notice them even though they aren't fae, they're just beneath people's notice, that's all."

Ildico shrugged and replied, "Ever since that night Flora arrived and I was reunited with Doctor Shannon, I've noticed things I'd never noticed before; like all those tiny sprites you have fluttering about the place. They're so adorable!"

Her cell phone chimed and she chirped, "That's my beau, excuse me a moment!"

Turning away she answered his call and murmured with him for a few moments.

Ending the call she said brightly, "He's on his way, I'd better head home and freshen up a bit!"

Roger smiled at the girls and said, "You ladies okay up here? You need anything?"

"We're good!" they chimed in unison and they resumed their spoiling of Samson and now Moonbeam Windstorm, the newest arrival.

Heading back to the house, Roger stopped briefly to exchange memorable hugs with Ildico before she left for home.

As soon as he entered the house he called Maribel and when the mature sprite appeared before him, he said with a smile, "We have a barn full of refugees, would you mind meeting with them and explaining how we do things around here?"

Having heard him calling for her mother, April fluttered up and settled down on his shoulder to listen in.

Knowing what was coming next, Roger said coyly, "Take April with you, she can help out!"

"Awww!" squeaked the tiny sprite as she realized he had snookered her.

Roger chuckled and said, "You'll get some chocolate later on today, be a dear and go help your mom."

"Hokay!" and she fluttered after her mother to talk with the refugees huddled in the barn.

Entering the front parlour where everyone seemed to wind up at some point in the day, he saw Anastasia and Sheila talking things over.

"Good morning ladies, how'd you sleep once you got to sleep?"

Sheila grinned, "Like a log, once I did lay down after cleaning my sword."

"Like the undead." said Anastasia with a twinkle in her eye.

Rolling his eyes at her reply he said, "Everything's a bit scattered outside, Freya's out checking her fruit trees and the young ladies are up at the barn spoiling Samson and now, Moonbeam Windstorm, which seems to be the white stag's new name."

"So, what're your plans?" he asked.

Sheila replied, "We were talking over when we wanted to head back to L.A. With Hallowe'en coming up, we thought we'd stay through that holiday then head home."

"You do know you're welcome to stay as long as you wish, do you not?"

Anastasia smiled, "Of course we do, it's just that I do have some responsibilities down there and I think Sheila's 'job' would dry up and blow away if she wasn't there to keep things going."

She winked and said coyly, "Some of us have to be adults at times."

"Adulting is waaay overrated." retorted Roger with a grin.

Sheila laughed and said, "Screw it, let's stay through Hallowe'en! Warren told me they have quite the Hallowe'en fest going on up at the library that night, it might be good for a laugh."

Roger smiled and said, "You never know just who might show up there, I know Titania said she'd like to see it and if she turns up, well...Things could get interesting."

"How interesting?"

"Like Shakespeare's Mid Summer night's dream, interesting. Ever see it"

Sheila laughed and said, "Does seeing it at the original Globe theater before it burnt down, qualify?"

"Yes, it would qualify. Seeing how tall you are now, you must've really stood out back then."

Sheila grinned, "A lot of women of means wore platform shoes back then, I didn't stand out that much amongst those with wealth. Among the poorer classes I did stand out, so I affected a thick Swedish accent, thus making me a big, dumb foreigner not to be taken seriously."

Roger laughed and remarked, "What ever it takes to get along, I guess."

He glanced at the clock and said, "Welp, I have a large tree branch to get untangled from my little truck and it won't get done if I don't get busy."

He turned to leave, then asked, "Have you guys seen Warren?"

Anastasia replied, "He came in briefly and told me he'll be helping set up the stage for the fest."

She grinned, "He did make sure to fill his bigger tankard before he left, saying construction work makes a man thirsty."

Chuckling to himself, Roger went outside, fetched his small chain saw from the tool shed and proceeded to cut the heavy branch into easily managed pieces to be added to the wood pile.

Thankfully, the little truck had sustained only minor damages beyond a few scratches in the paint.

A bit of wet sanding and a shot of paint, and it would good as new again.

Putting the chainsaw away, Roger decided to see if the build crews needed any help.

He grabbed his cordless tool bag and a few spare batteries, he tossed them into the cab of his truck, then grabbed some deck screws and hopped in his truck.

Minutes later, he was parking his little truck nearest the stage where he had spotted Warren stripped down to his jeans and tee shirt and perspiring in the fall weather, clearly they were working him pretty good.

Roger saw Paul Shannon and waved at him, Paul grinned and hollered, "I was wondering when you were gonna show up!"

Roger laughed and hollered back, "We had a bit of windfall to clean up after from last night's little fracas!"

Getting out his tool bag Roger said, "Where do you want me?"

Paul grinned and said, "Why don't you fall in with Whisky there and see if you can get some more work out of him, so he can get his tankard back!"

Warren grinned and said, "They shanghaid me tankard as soon as I got here, that's dirty pool in my book!"

Setting his tool bag down Roger grinned at the flushed, sweaty face of Warren and said with a grin, "Has it worked?"

Warren shrugged and replied, "Somewhat, although they keep plying me with this fizzy yellow beer from Mexico, in the vain hopes I'll forget and forgive!"

Roger grinned and fetched himself a dewy can of Tecate beer from a nearby ice chest.

As he opened it he said, "This beer is pretty good on a hot summer's day, you gotta admit!"

"Besides, you can save the good stuff for after, when you can enjoy a fine ale to go with some food, music or poetry."

Warren smiled and said, "Then let's get crackin' so's I can get my tankard back, provided they haven't drunk it all up by now!"

The two of them were put to work bringing the pieces of lumber to Paul in numerical order, while he assembled them into the major components, which were then heaved into place and locked down with stout pegs.

Paul grinned at them and said, "Think of it as a giant 3D puzzle!"

Warren just smiled and replied, "How do you think I put up my own booth every year?"

"Spoken like a true veteran of the faire circuit!" commented Paul as he laid the next timber down and fastened it into place.

Bit by bit, the stage was laid down, next its back and two sides went up and were locked together.

With all the timbers in place, it only needed decorating to complete it.

Stepping back, Paul grinned and said, "Now comes the draperies and scenery. After that, you can have your tankard back!"

"Thaur ye ur, they tauld me ye'd gonnae up haur tae help oot a bit, Ah brooght yer scran fer lunch."

Work momentarily stopped at the appearance of Freya bearing a wicker basket.

While many of the crew had seen her at the faire, some of the others were PSFS members who had not seen her before and they stood and stared in their amazement.

After all, how often does one see an 8 foot 9 inch tall high school girl with red-gold hair and Norse goddess looks?

Roger stopped working and grinned at his towering companion, "You, are an angel of mercy my dear. I was getting hungry right about now and your timing is perfect!"

Freya rolled her bright blue eyes and smiled at him as she handed him his lunch basket.

As he took the basket, he paused, hefted it and said with a grin, "If I open this, will I find enough lunch for two?"

Freya merely smiled and replied,"Wa dornt ye open it an' fin' oot?"

Roger smiled at her and said, "Come with me."

They found a place to sit and enjoy their meal, then Roger opened the heavy basket and saw there was enough food for not only himself and Freya, there was also enough for Warren if the neatly written labels on the paper wrapped bundles and small tubs were any indicator.

He laughed upon seeing the one gallon growler and the three drinking cups.

Calling out to Warren, he said, "Come and get your lunch, courtesy of Silky!"

Warren grinned, put his tools down and joined them.

Sitting beside Roger and Freya, Warren smiled as Freya handed him his sandwiches, a small tub of potato salad and a drinking cup.

At his quizzical look, Roger hoisted the growler and Warren grinned, there could only be one thing in that growler, some of Old Harald's finest harvest ale, freshly poured and still at cellar temperature.

Upon seeing the growler, Paul chuckled and commented, "I don't know why I bothered absconding with your big tankard, you still found a way to get your ale delivered!"

Warren merely grinned at Paul and saluted him by raising his cup and nodding at him in respect.

The food made by Silky quickly disappeared as did part of the gallon of Jotun ale, and after putting the empties back in the basket; Freya set it to one side and said, "Okay, noo Ah'm ready tae wark, whit dae ye want me tae dae?"

Paul smiled and said, "Excellent! Do you want to work on my crew putting things up? Or, do you want to work with Maeve and help with the decorating?"

"Ah'm nae much oan decoratin', sae Ah'd raither wark oan puttin' things up."

Paul grinned and called out to his crew, "You louts heard the lady, she wants to work with us.

"This means you need to behave yourselves!"

Paul spotted his wife Maeve and called out, "Freya is going to be helping us with erecting the stage."

Maeve called back, "That's quite oright me love, we have these three to help us out."

She gestured at Sheila, Anita and Anastasia who smiled and waved at Roger and company.

"We got bored!" cried Anita.

By late afternoon, the rest of the stage had been assembled and locked into place.

Freya's great strength had come in very handy as she could heave as much weight as any three of the men on the crew.

This led Paul to comment, "If you wish to help out during set up at the faire, your help would be greatly appreciated, Freya.

"You'd be granted unlimited access to the faire as a crew member and you'll have a distinctive doublet to wear, like a coat of arms."

Freya grinned and replied,"A distinctive dooblit wi' a jeekit ay arms markin' me as a crew member? Soonds loch fun!"

Roger glanced over at Anita who was standing on top of a ladder to tie the draperies and other decorations in place.

The slightly built teenager seemed to be utterly fearless on the ladder and he privately hoped she wouldn't fall, not while he was watching at least!

Paul chuckled, "Of course we'll have to have one made up special because of your size, Freya."

"'tis nae problem, aw me clase hae tae be made special fur me."

That evening, a fire was lit and all the workers enjoyed the crisp fall air beneath the silvery moon.

Samhain would soon be here and tankards of ale were hoisted to celebrate a good day's work.

Roger sat next to Freya and they gazed into the cheery blaze, musing over the many things they had seen together in the nearly seven years since they'd met.

He felt her arm slipping around him and he leaned against her towering form and put his arms around her.

They were in their comfort zone and cared nothing for anyone's opinions about their relationship.

Roger felt himself snuggling against her and thought, when had he come to enjoy being with her so much?

Were these feelings new ones, or had they been there all along?

The fluttering of tiny wings interrupted his musings and he opened his eyes to see, not April this time demanding chocolate, but a different sprite child.

It was little Julia, Maribel the Renfairy's spritely companion.

Blinking at her, Roger said softly, "Well, hello there little one, I take it Maribel is here?"

Julia grinned at him and flew off in a whirring of her lacy wings to find her human.

Reluctantly separating from Freya, Roger saw Maribel approaching them with tiny Julia flitting about her head.

Julia was pointing them out and he heard Maribel laugh and say, "I see them silly, Freya's pretty hard to miss and Roger's always right by her side!"

Coming right up to him Maribel smiled and said, "Hey stranger! How's everything going?"

"Okay, all things considered. We're still cleaning up after that windstorm but nothing major was broken, no big trees came down and we got a whole bunch of new sprites."

"Where did they come from?"

"Not a clue, they haven't learned to lower the pitch of their voices so we can understand them yet. I've got Maribel and April working with them right now."

"Where're they gonna stay?"

"Right now they're huddled together in Samson's barn, up in the rafters. I think once they've gotten over the shock of being here, they'll settle in whereever they like."

Maribel smiled and glanced around, "Where's Dena? I'm surprised she's not in the thick of things."

Shrugging, Roger replied,"I'm pretty sure she'll turn up at some point."

Who did show up was Flora, dressed in her northern wood nymph finery, or at least what Anita thought would be her finery; when she wasn't butt naked.

Roger heard the murmurings first, "Woah! Who's that girl? Whatta babe!"

"Is she wearing horns?" "Holy crap! She has hooves like a deers..."

"Who is she, where did she come from?"

Walking alongside of her was Dena, who had gone largely unnoticed because all eyes were on Flora.

Anita cried out, "Flora? Dena? What're you guys doing here?"

Roger stood up at that point and Dena called out,"Och, thaur ye ur. We cam up tae see whit ye aw ur daein' up haur."

"At the moment, we're all done for today and enjoying a little bit of a fire." He replied, "Come join us."

As they drew near, Maribel's eyes got very big and she muttered, "My god, she has horns and hooves...What is she?"

"She, is a northern wood nymph and her name is Flora Oakenwood." replied Anita who came striding up to meet the two.

Maribel smiled at Anita and the two hugged affectionately, having known each other for some time now.

Anita smiled and said, "Maribel, this is Flora, she's been living with us for a while now."

Flora and Maribel shook hands and Maribel asked, "Have you been to the faire yet? I know I would've remembered seeing you there, especially with your looks!"

Flora pouted briefly and replied, "Anita's been teaching me how to interact with humans. I'm guessing I'll be coming to the next faire?"

Maribel glanced at Anita and said, "You've known this girl for how long? Who else knows about her?"

"Um, Warren?" said Anita.

"Warren?! And he never told me? Wait'll I see him again!"

Anita cleared her throat and said, "He was told not to say anything, that's why he never mentioned her."

"Oh"

Roger smiled to himself, he knew Maribel and several others would flip if they learned that Anna Karlsen was there helping out, unbeknownst to them.

Maribel giggled and said gaily, "I can't wait for next year's faire! With Freya and Dena and hopefully Flora? It's gonna rock!"

"What's gonna rock?" asked a melodious voice out of the darkness and Anastasia emerged from the gloom as she entered the fire's glow.

Walking with her was Sheila's towering form. Sheila smiled and said, "We finished up everything and they gave us free passes for next year's faire, this could be fun!"

Roger chuckled and said, "Well, you'll just have to come back up then, we'll keep your room available, you know that of course."

Maribel sized up the two and Anita said cheerfully, "These are Anastasia and Sheila, they're friends of the family. Anastasia, Sheila? This is Maribel, one of the Renfairys you'll see at faire."

Anastasia smiled at the diminutive Maribel and said cheerfully, "I can readily believe that, you certainly have the stature and build for playing a fairy, and an adorable one at that!"

Maribel smiled at her and replied, "And you, would make a great elf maiden. With your looks, it'd be easy, peasy."

Sheila chuckled and said, "And what, could I play as?"

Maribel looked up at the towering woman standing about two feet taller than her and grinned, "That's easy, you could be a shield maiden or something, a Valkyrie, perhaps?"

Maribel jerked a thumb at Freya and said brightly, "We already have a frost giantess and a giant wolf!"

It was poor Warren who innocently let the cat out of the bag when it came to who Anastasia really was.

He came toddling up to them, tankard in one hand and Astrid's furry back in the other when he saw Anastasia he said, "Anna! Funny meeting you here!"

The woman walking with him asked, "Who's Anna?"

Warren gestured with his right hand and said, "That's Anna, right there!"

The woman peered at Anastasia and said cautiously, "You sure do look like Anna Karlsen. I say this 'cos I've met her at Powell's during a book signing event a few years ago. In fact the resemblance is kinda eerie, you could be her double!"

Maribel suddenly interjected, "You know, you really do look like Anna Karlsen, she has a point!"

Anastasia shrugged and replied cheerfully,"I get that now and then, I've even had people ask for my autograph, so I just write 'Sorry, I'm not who you think I am. Love, A."

At that remark, the woman's eyes got very large and she whispered, "You really are Anna Karlsen!"

Anastasia smiled at her and said, "Yes, I am and I would appreciate it if you didn't make a big scene about my being here. Some of my fans don't understand social boundaries and my need for my privacy."

The woman smiled and nodded as she pressed a finger against her lips and made a zipping motion across them.

She glanced at Maribel who then repeated her performance of zipping a finger across her lips and throwing away an invisible key.

The woman turned to Warren and said, "You and me gotta talk about you witholding information!"

Warren straightened up and said firmly, "I was told not to say anything and I respected her wishes. You can't blame me for doing the honorable thing!"

The woman considered his reply and after a moment she asked Anastasia, "Would you be interested in coming to one of our meetings? If you're not too busy?"

"When is your next meeting?"

The woman brightened and said, "We meet every Thursday evening at eight P.M. Here at the Karloff Library, the place is really cool I might add."

Anastasia smiled and said mildly, "I am quite familiar with the building, it used to be my great grandmother's and I donated it to the Museum of Cryptozoology for their library and research center."

She grinned, "And, I got quite the tax write off to boot!"

The woman gasped and she spluttered at Warren, "Did you know this when you met her? And you didn't grovel at her feet?"

Warren guffawed and replied, "Actually, I learned of this after we became acquainted and no, I did not grovel."

He winked at Anastasia as he said that and her cheeks dimpled as she suppressed a grin.

Music started playing and an impromptu dance started up on the big stage they'd just finished erecting.

Paul grinned at Roger and he said, "No time like the present for giving this a good shake down!"

He leapt on on stage and called out, "Woman! Come and dance with me while the night is still young!"

"Oiright man! I'll dance wi' ye!" Maeve swept onto the stage and joined her husband as they began with a spritely jig designed to loosen up the joints.

Roger grinned at his towering companion as he held out his hand and said, "May I have this dance, dear heart?"

Freya's cheeks dimpled as she rose to her full height and joined him on stage.

They fell into the rhythm and swirled round and round, laughing gaily as they danced.

Freya's happiness was apparent to all who saw her that night, her smile radiant as she danced with Roger, the man she secretly loved.

Maribel joined in with a young man she had dragged onstage with her. Her eyes twinkling merrily as she danced with him; while tiny Julia fluttered about over their heads.

The moon's silvery light seemed to add a touch of magic to the festivities and before long, a swarm of sprites circled overhead, their glowing trails entrancing all who could see them.

When the first dance came to an all too soon end, Freya lifted Roger in her arms and kissed him soundly before all and sundry.

Let the wagging of tongues commence!

Setting him back down again, he clenched his arms about Freya's hips and held her tightly, his heart racing as his emotions surged.

The next song started up and Roger felt a tug on his trouser leg.

He let go of Freya and instinctively reached down to pick up Dena.

He said softly, "I suppose you'll be wanting to dance too?"

The beautiful wood elf smiled at him and said, "An' yoo'd be guessin' reit too!"

Cradling her in his arms as if she was an infant, he started dancing along with the rhythms of the music as the tiny wood elf sang along with the musicians, her voice clear as she sang in an ancient language nearly forgotten by man, but remembered by the fae.

Roger felt his heart stirring as she sang and even though he did not understand her singing, he still responded to her song.

He barely felt April landing on his shoulder, though he did hear her own tiny voice joining Dena in her song.

Surprised that both of them were singing in the same forgotten language, Roger meant to ask Dena about the language she was singing in at a later date.

Sadly, he barely remembered that night of singing and dancing under a waning moon the next day.

The forgetful sleep spell Dena had cast before leaving had been meant to protect her and the other neighbors there from being sought out by those with dishonorable intentions, she had forgotten to exempt Roger from her spell and so, he largely forgot one of the happiest nights he had ever had.

The next two days were ones of Roger acquiring lots of candies to be bagged up into little packets and handed out as treats, of Anita and Flora carving jack o'lanterns and Freya setting up scary displays of fake tombstones and dangling skeletons all meant to be scary, yet fun.

The library's front lawn had been transformed by the erection of a stage, an outdoor kitchen and an ale stand.

There too, had been put up the usual fake skeletons, robotic giant spiders and dried up mummies, all meant to be fun.

Roger smiled to himself when Freya had commented about inviting Natalie and Zenobia for next year, the arachne and the lamia would be quite the addition to the festivities she felt.

October 31st dawned bright and clear and unseasonably warm.

A good omen for the trick or treaters coming later on that night.

The household braced itself for the impending invasion of small people in outlandish costumes, their eyes shining in their excitement and all crying 'trick or treat!' while holding out plastic pumpkin buckets.

The whole neighborhood was prepared for the onslaught with brilliant displays of moving and growling monsters creeping through artificial fog, cackling old witches tending a bubbling cauldron, screeching black cats, howling wolves and dangling corpses; all meant to be slightly scary and a lot of fun.

It was generally agreed that the house once built for a retired circus giant couple was by far, the crown jewel of Wolf Hills and a destination for those seeking sugary treats.

The library posted a sign at its driveway announcing that it was closed that evening for a private party and no admittance was allowed unless it was by invitation.

Invitees were encouraged to carpool, as parking was quite limited.

By early evening, the younger kids started appearing with their parents in tow.

Roger dressed as a pirate, stationed himself next to the driveway, with a large iron cauldron laden with small bags of treats that he would be handing out.

He figured that once the several hundred bags had disappeared, he could pack it up and head up to the library grounds for the real Hallowe'en celebration.

Helping him distribute the candy bags was Freya, dressed as a Jotun maiden and wearing a stylish mask intended for a masquerade party.

Later on, Anastasia would be joining him and she would be in full Goth vampire queen mode.

When she had declared that's what she would be wearing, he grinned and commented,"That's not really much of a stretch for you, all you have to do wear one of your Goth queen outfits and show your fangs. Easy, peasy."

She merely grinned in reply and said, "That's the beauty of it, I can show my true form and no one will bat an eye! It's the one night a year I can truly show myself without fear of persecution."

Roger smiled, "Let us hope they'll appreciate your true beauty!"

To his surprise she blushed freely and averted her gaze, in that moment she said quietly, "I don't know what it is about you that makes me feel shy all of a sudden, but you do have that unnerving ability to say the one thing that breaks through my defenses and plucks at my heart strings."

Roger smiled shyly and took her hand, placing it against his chest he said quietly, "You and I have a connection that no one else could ever share and that is our blood connection. Even if we married other people or had living siblings or even parents, they would not have that special bond we share."

He murmured, "Our is a love that transcends mere affection or desire, it has no name, it needs no physical expression, it simply is, love in its purest form."

The chorus of children crying "Trick or Treat! Interrupted his musings and Roger grinned roguishly at the passel of children in outlandish garb, armed with weapons grade cuteness and an empty plastic Jack O'lantern.

Some of the kids looked up in awe at Freya's towering form as she smiled at them, others waved at her in familiarity, they'd seen her before.

"Arrrrh, who disturbs old Jack Tar on this fine evenin'?"Cried Roger in his most piratical accent.

"Us!" cried the giggling children.

Roger poised with his hand above the heavily laden cauldron and squinted as he said, "Could it be y'all be wantin' candy?"

"Yes!" declared the smiling children.

He made a show of counting heads, only he kept skipping his numbers or repeating numbers he'd already said.

"Hey, you missed a number!" cried a bold little girl dressed as a sorceress.

Roger opened his one good eye wide, then flipped up the black eye patch, looked at her with both eyes and said, "Are ye sure?"

"Of course I'm sure, I'm a third grader!" said the girl proudly.

Roger blinked at her a few times and exclaimed, "Well so ye are, ye can 'elp me 'and out th' candy then!"

The girl beamed as Roger under her close supervision, began handing out the small bags of loot while the girl's parents recorded the scene for posterity.

After a chorus of thank yous! The motley horde of kindred spirits trooped to the next house and its promise of sweets to be had.

Leaving Roger and Freya standing there alone together.

Freya smiled and remarked,"Ye sure get a kick oota teasin' th' bairns loch ye dae."

Roger could only shrug and reply, "My own childhood was pretty crappy, so if I can make a child laugh or brighten up their day, it helps me to make up for my own crappy childhood."

It being still somewhat early, they were regularly beset by swarms of gaily clad trick or treaters all crying "Trick'r treat!" all holding out various candy receptacles.

Many of the kids, never having seen a nearly nine foot tall girl before, gawked openly as a smiling Freya handed out tiny bags stuffed with sugary treats, all designed to spike the blood sugar content and assure a steady income for dentists across the land.

At around 8 PM, Anastasia in full Goth vampire queen mode cheerfully relieved Freya, so she could head up to the library and its Celtic Hallowe'en celebration.

By now the trick or treaters were the somewhat older kids and youthful adults who relished the opportunity to go out in costume and beg for candy.

Maribel the renfairy pulled up to the driveway and waved, Roger waved her in so she could park.

Moments later, she came up to them in her most daring fairy costume while tiny Julia flitted about her head.

Maribel grinned as she did a slow turn so that they could appreciate her outfit.

Roger chuckled and said teasingly, "It's amazing what can be done with spray paint these days!"

"Spray paint? There's no spray paint on me!" declared Maribel, her taut little body scarcely concealed by her tiniest of outfits.

Anastasia grinned at her, showed fang and said, "You certainly do have the body for that look, I would never have dared wearing something that scanty. The scandal alone would have been mortifying!"

Maribel laughed and replied, "Staying in character I see."

She grinned at Anastasia and said, "You've got a killer body, I'll bet you could rock something like this easily."

Anastasia laughed gaily, her extended fangs in full view of Roger and Maribel and she said,"I'll leave that sort of outfit to you, little one. I have my own ways of attracting my meals, er men."

Anastasia winked at Maribel and she laughed in reply as she traipsed up to the library and its festivities.

When the girl was out of sight Anastasia commented, "She's out to get herself laid tonight and with that tight little body on display like it is, she'll likely succeed!"

Roger could only shrug and remark, "She's young and quite healthy, why shouldn't she enjoy a good bonking now and then? I just hope her partner appreciates the experience!"

Having given the last of the candy away, Roger quickly folded up shop, so to speak and began carrying the cauldron and its tripod back inside the former carriage house.

Putting everything back in its place he turned to see Anastasia looking even paler than usual.

She looked almost hollow eyed and sunken cheeked and seemed to be swaying on her feet.

"Girl, you okay?" he asked out of concern.

Anastasia said hoarsely, "I need blood, I left my feeder fangs out much too long and now I'm really famished!"

"Do you have any in your little refrigerator?"

"Yes I do, but I need some now!" she moaned.

Without hesitating, Roger took her into his arms, held her closely and whispered,"You may feed from me, I am giving you my consent freely and without coercion on your part."

"You have no idea of what you're offering..." she murmured.

Roger squeezed her slender dancer's body and murmured, "You helped me when I needed it most, this is only a small portion of the life debt I owe you."

He gently pressed her mouth against his neck and said firmly, "Now, feed!"

Anastasia's mouth opened wide as her slender arms slipped around him and she held him with the surprising strength of her desperation.

He felt the pin pricks of her feeder fangs sinking into his neck and moments later, he felt a slight numbness as her saliva numbed the feeding site and she began gently sucking his rich, red blood, freely given out of his love for her and incredibly sweet in flavor.

He held her tightly while she fed, her warm lips pressed against his throat, her arms holding him closely.

After a few minutes of this incredibly intimate exchange between them, her velvet lips parted from his throat and he felt her tongue licking his puncture wounds as she closed them up again with her healing saliva.

Anastasia looked up at him, her bright blue eyes shining with emotions as she said, "I never thought I would ever feed from someone I love so dearly, a someone who gave me his blood without hesitation."

She clung to him, her face pressed against his chest "Never in my long, long life has anyone ever made such an offer to me. I don't know what to think or how to respond."

Looking up at him she smiled and said wryly, "You really do know how to get inside a girl's heart, you know that?"

Roger smiled at her and replied,"You also, are deep inside my heart. Like I said earlier, ours is a pure form of love."

Separating once more Roger smiled at her and said, "Before you even think about heading up to that party. You, are going to go feed properly while I grab something to eat as well while waiting for you, then we'll go see what's happening!"

Anastasia smiled at him and said coyly, "Yes dear!"

Then she suddenly rose on tip toe and kissed him soundly, her velvet lips melting against his in a lingering smooch of a kiss.

Her lips parted from his and she purred, "Freya is very lucky that I don't wish to steal her man, before she's even had a chance to acknowledge her feelings."

Roger rolled his eyes and muttered, "First it was Ayesha, then it was Mia and now it is you, all grimly determined to match me up with Freya!"

Anastasia smiled and said, "I see I'm not the only one who thinks that way!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever!" muttered Roger.

Minutes later, they were seated in her room while she drained a pouch of blood via a straw.

Roger finished off his sandwich and waited to see how she reacted.

After a few moments, her color improved quite a bit and Roger asked, "Between what you got from me and that pouch, is that enough?"

Anastasia thought for a few moments and said, "Do you think I should have a second pouch?"

"I'm not the vampire here, what do you feel?" replied Roger.

She thought for a few moments more, then shrugged and reopened her small refrigerator.

Roger caught a glimpse of several well rounded pouches, each one holding a pint of donated blood.

Blood obtained legally via a blood bank, and thusly relieving Anastasia of the need to hunt for blood when she thirsted for it.

Vampirism in the 21st century, as she had put it one evening during a conversation.

A few minutes later Anastasia finished her second pouch and as she tossed the empty into her waste basket she said, "I'll know next time not to extend my feeder fangs for so long."

She paused, "Or to ignore my need to drink blood, I went for a few days without feeding and frankly, with all that has gone on in the last two weeks or so, I'd clean forgotten."

Anastasia let loose an impressive belch and giggled at the look on Roger's face.

He'd never heard her doing anything even remotely as vulgar before and his expression was priceless.

"Welp, shall we go?" she asked.

Roger smiled, stood and offered her his arm.

The light of the waning moon lit their path as they walked up to the library and the Samhain observance being held up there.

Cresting the last rise, they beheld a crackling bon fire surrounded by celebrants, all tossing bones with messages tied to them into the blaze.

"Messages for those who've passed on. " remarked Roger.

Anastasia noticed Sheila standing nearby and remarked, "I wonder at how many of those she has witnessed down through the ages?"

Roger murmured, "How many has she participated in, should be the question you want to ask her."

As they watched, Sheila tossed her own contribution into the roaring fire.

"I see what you mean, her memories must run incredibly deep."

Sheila spotted them approaching and she waved at them.

Roger said quietly, "I'm going to get myself a drink, you'll be with her, right?"

"Yes, she'll keep me out of trouble, I'm sure."

He rolled his eyes at her sarcasm and headed off to find the ale stand.

Warren smiled as he approached and without him having to ask, Warren began filling a tankard for Roger's enjoyment.

"Hail and well met!" he said as he placed the foaming tankard on the counter.

"And a most enjoyable evening to you, kind sir!" replied Roger as he took the tankard by the handle.

They briefly clunked their tankards together and each said, "Probst!" as they took their first big sup.

Setting his tankard down, Warren asked, "All done with the kiddies?"

"Yep, candy has been handed out, mission accomplished!" grinned Roger.

Glancing over at the stage they watched briefly as a group of Irish dancers whirled and spun, their legs flying and kicking in a blur of motion.

Warren muttered, "One thing about Irish dancing, pretty legs are definitely a requirement!"

"Having a couple of extra joints in them also helps!" quipped Roger.

The two friends grinned and drank a toast to the Irish dancers up on stage.

"There's something I hadn't seen before." muttered Warren as he gazed at the celebrants.

Following his friend's gaze Roger saw Anita snuggling with a young man, the same young man he'd seen her with before at Faire.

Roger commented, "I've seen her with him before at Faire during after hours."

He looked at Warren and said, "They seem to have an 'understanding'."

"Understanding?"

"You could say that they're friends with benefits, but only during Faire related events."

"Whaaaa?"

"That's the way I see it, he doesn't come around at any other time it seems. At least not that I've seen."

Warren muttered, "Can't say I would approve of that if she were my daughter."

Roger shrugged and said, "I thought it was a little strange myself, but they've known each other for years and he seems to be a decent enough young man. I like to think she has enough sense to not go hopping into bed with just any old randy young stud. Or getting herself pregnant."

Warren was about to comment when he suddenly exclaimed, "Oh, hello!" and looked down.

"Did you want a refill?" he asked.

Dena was standing there with her own wee tankard in hand and a dazzling smile on her lovely face.

Roger grinned and said, "Better serve the lady!"

Warren chuckled as he reached down, took Dena's little tankard and carefully filled it up again.

Roger meanwhile reached down and picked her up out of long habit.

Cradling her in one arm, Roger stood watching the celebrants at play and talked to Warren.

Handing the foaming tankard to the adorable wood elf, Warren smiled at her and said, "Having a good time?"

Dena grinned at him through her ale foam mustache and said, "Ay coorse Ah'm havin' a guid time, Ah'm skitin' ale wi' me cheil arenae Ah?"

Roger's face darkened as he flushed in embarrassment, Dena had gotten to him yet again.

Gazing at him with a critical eye, she poked a finger at his newly healed bite marks and said, "Whit ur ye daein' lettin' 'at bluid sucker hae a wee nip? Whit happened?"

Roger flushed again and replied, "Anastasia was in full Goth vampire queen mode and had her feeder fangs extended for the whole time we were handing out treats. She became quite faint from lack of blood and I let her have a little bit of my own. It seems that she had not been drinking enough blood these past two weeks and tonight, it all came to a head when she nearly collapsed."

He looked at Dena and said seriously, "And before you go off on a tear, my little bedbug; I offered myself, she did not coerce me. She even hesitated before taking the bite I freely offered her. So chill out!"

Dena frowned and muttered, "Jist dornt gang makin' a habit ay it!"

"Yes dear" purred Roger as she flushed in her own adorable way, he'd just gotten even.

"Is she going to be okay now?" asked Warren.

"I think so, she drank a couple of blood pouches after I helped her get to the house so she could get to her blood supply, while I ate something myself."

Warren muttered, "So much for the glamour of becoming an immortal, if it means one is so easily discombobulated by forgetting to eat properly!"

Roger grinned and remarked, "Don't tell all the Gothy vampire fans that, they'll be all over you!"

He merely shrugged, took another sup of his ale and commented, "I used to know someone who was all into anything pertaining to vampires. When those glittering vampire movies came out some years ago, she dragged a friend of mine to see one of them and he remarked to me that she was practically masturbating throughout the movie. She got so worked up over them it was crazy, and god help anyone who dared to point out the abusive nature of the relationship portrayed in the script."

"Sounds like someone needed to get herself a life." muttered Roger as he cradled Dena while she drank.

Warren chuckled and remarked, "She was a fan and fans can get pretty weird about some things. She wore mainly costumes as her daily clothing and fortunately for her, she had inherited enough money to not have to worry about money too much, so long as she watched her spending habits, she was set for life."

Roger sighed and remarked, "Legacy babies I've known tended to have an unrealistic approach to money, as they simply inherited it and had not earned it."

"Members of the lucky sperm club." muttered Warren.

"Yep."

The band started playing a lively reel and Dena declared,"Ah hear jink music! Ah want tae jink, jink wi' me mah loove!"

Her smile was radiant and her bright blue eyes twinkled in her merriment.

Handing Warren her little tankard, she cried,"Ah'll gie 'at when we gie back!"

Roger laughed and said, "Hold my beer!" as he whirled away and joined the dance with Dena cradled in his arms.

Warren was smiling and watching the others dance when he heard, "Minding the ale while everyone else gets to play?"

Glancing towards the voice, he saw Flora standing there her dark eyes twinkling in merriment.

In the soft light of the evening hour, she looked even more enchanting than usual with her four horns emerging from her luxurious raven tresses and curving behind her head.

Her outfit emphasized her trim waist and firm, well rounded bosom while partly concealing her deer like legs and cloven hooves.

Her dark eyes twinkled as she smiled at him and said,"Aren't you going to join them?"

Warren smiled at her and replied,"No one to dance with, I'm afraid."

Flora smiled at him and said coyly, "You can always dance with me, you know."

Warren smiled as he bowed and said, "Beauteous lady, wilt thou dance with me perchance?"

Flora extended her right hand and replied, "Of course I will dance with thee, milord!"

Warren laughed as he took her proffered hand and replied, "I am no lord milady, I am but a simple merchant."

"And I, am no lady, I'm just a simple northern woodland nymph come to enjoy a dance with a friend."

Having joined hands, the two of them whirled into the crowd of dancers and joined in.

Within moments, Flora had whirled off with another partner and Warren found himself dancing with Anastasia.

She smiled and said gaily, "I haven't had this much fun in years!"

She glanced towards Flora and her latest partner and said, "I see you two came to dance, who asked whom?"

Warren laughed and replied, "She hinted and I took the bait, it's all good!"

Anastasia laughed and said, "Yes it is!" just before she too, spun off to a different partner and Warren found himself dancing with tiny Maribel.

He grinned at the tiny renfairy and said, "Funny, meeting you here!"

Maribel laughed and said, "I never knew you could dance, I always saw you either in your booth or drinking ale at the after hours parties."

Warren chuckled and replied, "I don't ordinarily, but when a girl like Flora asks, it's hard to say no!"

Maribel glanced over at Flora who was dazzling her current dance partner with her lustrous dark eyes and luciously ripe lips, curved into a warm smile.

Without losing her rhythm she looked up at Warren and asked, "Where did she come from? Is she for real?"

He laughed and said, "She came here about two years ago and yes, her horns and hooves are real. And don't call her a faun! She's a northern wood nymph, not a goat, as she puts it."

The music ended all too soon and every man there bowed to his partner, while every woman curtsied to her partner and they all applauded the band.

Taking advantage of the momentary lull, Maribel was about to ask about Flora when she came up to Warren and said gaily, "Aren't you glad you asked me to dance?"

Warren smiled at the young northern wood nymph and said cheerfully, "Yes, I am glad you talked me into asking."

He indicated to Maribel and said, "Flora, I'd like you to meet Maribel, she is one of the Renfairy's you'll see at faire this July. Maribel, this is Flora Oakenwood, she lives here with us and hopefully next July, she'll be making her Renfaire debut."

Flora smiled at Warren and said cheerfully, "We've met, Anita introduced us."

In her innocence Flora asked her, "Are you really a fairy? The ones I've seen are usually much smaller."

Before Maribel could reply, her tiny sprite companion fluttered up and settled onto her ivy circlet to Flora's delight.

Flora gushed, "How sweet, you have a sprite sitting on your head and she's adorable!"

Warren chuckled and said softly to Julia, "Hello there! How are you doing?"

Julia's tiny voice could be barely heard over the background din as she said, "Ah'm fine, Ah jist got back frae sayin' hello to me friends here."

Maribel cleared her throat and said, "To answer your question. No, I am not a fairy, I just pretend to be one and Warren here has a booth that I can duck into, if the lurkers get to be too much."

"Lurkers?"

"Creeps with fancy cameras who get a little too aggressive when there's no Beefeaters around." replied Warren.

"Beefeaters?"

"Faire security, they dress in the Elizabthan era Beefeater uniforms and have the power to make an arrest if needs be."

"Ah."

Flora looked thoughtful and she asked, "If I go to this 'faire' I've heard so much about, will I have to worry about these 'lurkers' you mentioned?"

Maribel and Warren looked at each other, nodded, looked back at her and said in unison, "No", "Yes!"

They looked at each other again and virtually repeated themselves with the same results.

They glared at each other and Flora remarked, "I'm detecting a disagreement here, what gives?"

Maribel sighed and said in exasperation, "Warren here doesn't have to deal with lurkers like I do, so he's not going to see a problem with them while I have seen a problem with them."

She shot a glare at him as if daring him to contradict her.

Warren cleared his throat and said, "I am well aware of problems with lurkers at faire and in my observations, I've noticed they'll hover around Maribel here because when she is in renfairy mode, she is relatively stationary and being quite lovely, she does attract attention. Both good and bad."

He looked at Flora, "No doubt you will attract attention because of your looks and cameras will be pointed at you, of that I am certain. However, you will not be alone nor will you be stationary as you will be with either Anita who is fiercely protective, or with Roger, who can be intimidating in his own right."

Both Maribel and Flora blinked at his comments and Maribel said, "Roger, intimidating? He seems like such a sweetheart."

Warren simply smiled and replied, "He is a military veteran and was involved in an attack on the embassy he was assigned to as a security guard, while he was in the Marines."

"He doesn't like to talk about his military experiences much, but he can handle himself in a fight, I know that much."

All three of them glanced over at Roger who was still cradling tiny Dena in his arms, there was much about him they didn't know about and it would likely remain a mystery.

Flora looked thoughtful, Roger certainly had known what he was doing during the wild hunt as it blew over their house.

His being a combat veteran would explain his deadly efficiency with a sharpened gardening spade.

Roger came up to them with a sleeping Dena cradled in his arms, the ale she had consumed earlier had made her sleepy and he was carrying her as if she was a newborn babe.

Warren smiled at him and said,"Asleep is she?"

Roger shrugged and replied, "Ale does that to her, a couple of tankards, she's chipper, a couple more, she gets sleepy."

Maribel said, "Couldn't you lay her down somewhere quiet?"

"I could, if I wanted to suffer the consequences." said Roger.

"Consequences?"

Roger smiled at the diminutive renfairy and replied, "If you were out dancing with someone you trusted, drank too much and fell asleep, then woke sometime later all alone. Wouldn't you be a bit miffed at being abandoned? I'm pretty sure I would be!"

Maribel smiled and said ruefully, "I see your point, and you're right and I can't believe I even suggested it!"

Roger just smiled and said, "I don't mind carrying her with me, she is my little bedbug after all."

"Bedbug? Does she sleep with you?" asked an incredulous Maribel.

"Yep, apparently when a wood wife bonds with someone, she'll sleep with them even though they are not lovers. It's their way of strengthening the bond. Besides, she makes a great bed warmer on a chilly night."

Maribel just shook her head and muttered, "When I sleep with someone it is because I wish to have sex with them, not just bond with them. "

Roger merely shrugged and remarked, "Nothing wrong with that, a good bonking is always a good thing."

"Although in your case, I don't see how it could be done, there's no way she could ever..."

"Never mind all that, have any of you seen Freya? As big as she is, you'd think she'd be easy to spot in this crowd." said Roger.

They nodded in agreement with his comment and Warren said, "I saw her earlier over by the Thornhill's, maybe she's still over there?"

Roger smiled, Freya was likely talking about their dairy products of which Silky was so fond of.

Going in the direction Warren had indicated, Roger soon caught up with his towering companion.

She was indeed, talking to the Thornhill's about their dairy products and the reason why was standing right next to her.

Silky, clad in her usual pastel shaded silks was standing there taking small nips from a cupcake, as she tasted their butter cream frosting offering.

Laura Thornhill smiled as she saw Roger approaching with his small burden and called out, "Did the wee lass fall asleep on you?"

"You could say that." he replied.

"A few tankards of ale and out she goes, sleeps like a baby after that."

Laura looked at the sleeping form of Dena and said, "Oh my, she's like a tiny doll, I thought you had a baby in your arms. Who is she?"

"This is Dena Greenwood, she's a wood wife and yes, she is real, just like Silky over there is real"

Laura glanced over where her husband Tom was talking to Freya and Silky and said, "Okay, I take it she's a 'neighbor' then?"

Looking back at Roger, she tutted to herself and said, "Would you like to borrow one of my shawls, so you can make a sort of sling to carry her in?"

"Yes, that would be great, it would free up my hands for important things, like eating and drinking."

Laura excused herself and moments later, she was folding her spare shawl into a sort of sling, securing the ends with a simple brooch and slipping it over Roger's neck.

He gently laid the sleeping wood elf in the sling and grinned, she had never even stirred.

"Thanks! He murmured and Laura smiled, "Glad I could help."

Laura grinned and said, "Now, why is it I've known you for several years now, and I never saw her before?"

Her eyes glanced at the sleeping Dena meaningfully.

Roger smiled and replied, "You may have seen her at Faire, she has been there several times now, but she always casts a forgetful dreams spell when she leaves, to make it seem like seeing her was part of a very pleasant dream."

He grinned, "Don't worry, she won't be casting any spells tonight, the ale made sure of that!"

Laura smiled as she gazed upon Dena's sleeping form and murmured, "She's so lovely. I'd love to know how she came into your life!"

Roger chuckled and remarked, "And so would Anna Karlsen, she's threatened to sit on me until I tell her my story!"

Laura chuckled and said, "I love her writing and have all of her books, I even went to a book signing event at Powell's a couple of years ago just to meet her."

She winked at him and said roguishly "She's quite lovely, getting sat upon by her might not be a bad thing after all!"

"I'll tell her you said that, she's right over there!" Laura's eyes followed Roger's pointed finger and she saw Anastasia chatting with Anita and Flora.

Laura rounded on him and said with a grin, "Does the term 'you smug bastard!' have any meaning to you?"

Roger grinned, "Yes, I've been called that in the past, why do you ask?"

"Because at the moment, it definitely applies!" she said with a laugh.

Roger laughed and called out to Anastasia, "Anastasia! I would like you to meet a good friend of ours."

As the trio came towards them Laura mumured, "That faun, she is real?"

"Yes, she is and don't call her a faun, she is a northern wood nymph and her name is Flora Oakenwood."

"Gotcha!"

Anastasia and company wafted up to them and Roger said, "This is Laura Thornhill, she and her husband run the craft dairy we get our dairy products from. She really likes your books by the way!"

As the two women made their acquaintances, Roger approached Freya and Silky.

They had concluded their chat with Tom Thornhill and were watching the people who were dancing on the green.

Freya smiled at him and said teasingly, "An' whaur did ye acquire a wee bairn?"

He grinned at his towering companion and showed her Dena's sleeping form.

Silky's delicate features suppressed a grin, she was amused at seeing the irrepressible Dena out for the count..

The music had a catchy beat to it and Roger couldn't resist, so he asked Silky, "Oh Silver Flower, lady of our house, would you care to dance with me, perchance?"

Freya purred, "Go ahead, Ah'll watch uir sleepin' babe!"

Roger deftly handed Dena off to Freya and gallantly offered Silky his hand.

Silky lowered her lavender eyes and flushed appropriately as she took his proffered hand and followed him onto the dancing green.

Soon she was whirling around with Roger while he led the way, her lavender eyes glistened and she beamed in happiness as he danced with her, her silken clothing rustling softly as she whirled.

The other couples switched partners in mid step while Roger continued dancing with the diminutive house spirit out for a rare evening of playtime.

Silky's delicate features fairly glowed in her happiness as she danced with the lord of the house she served, even though Roger refused to treat her as a servant but rather, treated her as a member of the family.

The music ended and as Roger and Silky separated they heard, "How precious, the lord of the house dancing with the house spirit! What will they do next?"

Roger turned to see Titania seated on her small donkey and Oberon standing beside her, a smile on his face, his deerlike ears waggling; standing beside the royal couple was Spriggan with a disapproving look on his coarse features.

With him was a pack of black dogs.

He was an old school fae, to him fae should not interact with mortals, no matter how old.

Silky flushed and distanced herself from Roger as if she had been caught engaging in illicit acts with the lord of the manor.

Titania beamed as she slipped from her small donkey with the strangely human eyes and came towards Roger, her silken voice purring, "We saw how you dealt with the wild hunt and we approve of the white stag's staying here, where he will be safe."

Roger bowed low and said, "Good evening and welcome to our Samhain fest, your majesties and of course, Spriggan too." he concluded with a wink at Spriggan who merely glowered in reply.

He and Roger had a bit of a history between them and he was barely civil to the sunburnt adventurer scholar; to his queen's amusement.

Titania smiled and extended a three fingered hand for him to kiss.

He bowed low over her profferred hand, brushed his lips across it in a courtly manner and straightened up again in time for her to step into his arms for a hug and a brief kiss, which lingered long enough to for them to hear a gruff "Majesty! Cease this unseemly behavior!"

Titania smiled and murmured, "Thank you for giving me an opportunity to tweak that stiff, old stone of mine!"

"As always, the pleasure's all mine, your majesty!"

Roger looked over at Spriggan and said, "Thank you for the presence of one of your kin, the other night. He really made a difference in warding off the wild hunt. And, don't be upset with our Silver Flower, I asked her to dance with me."

Moments later, Freya, Anita, Flora and Warren all paid their respects to the queen of old Albion. The Gealach of Tir na nOg, the land of eternal summer.

Titania smiled at them, she was enjoying having mortals pay their respects to her again.

Curious to see who Roger and the others were paying their respects to, Anastasia and Sheila drew near.

To Anastasia's surprise, Spriggan stepped forward to interpose himself between her and his queen as he said gruffly, "You are of the liath anam, keep your distance!"

He glared at Sheila and said, "The same goes for you, half thing!"

They both looked at Roger for an answer and he said, "Liath anam means grey soul, it's their way of saying undead."

Sheila muttered "And I'd be right in guessing half thing refers to me?"

"'Fraid so dear."

Shrugging she remarked, "I've been called worse in my time."

Ignoring Spriggan's scowling presence Titania came towards them and said, "And you are?"

Anastasia executed a perfect curtsy and said, "I am Anastasia Karloff, it is a great pleasure to meet you, your highness."

Sheila did the same and said, "And I am Sheila Ericcson and I too, wish to convey my respects, your majesty."

Oberon suddenly interjected himself, his deerlike ears waggling and a smile on his face as he said, "And I, am her hubby, pleased to meetcha!"

He looked Sheila up and down rather frankly and said, "You my dear, would be quite the sporting proposition with your size and strength, care to take a chance?"

Roger smiled and said coyly, "No longer interested in Flora? She's quite lovely now, your majesty."

Oberon waved him off impatiently and said dismissively, "Feh, She's Titania's get now and off limits!"

Titania sighed and murmured, "Spriggan, you may release them now."

He nodded and said, "Go!"

Oberon cried, "No! Wait!" as the black dogs swarmed him, nipping and pulling on his anatomy in various ways, "Oooh, not there! Ohhhhh, yes!"

With him down and occupied by the black dogs, Titania smiled at Roger and said, "May we have the next dance? We saw how skillful you are at the dance."

She glanced over at Anastasia and Sheila who were watching in horror as Oberon got worked over by the black dogs.

She said gaily, "Oh, don't worry about him. He enjoys it actually!"

A lively jig started up and Roger took Titania's hand and led her onto the dancing green.

For a few moments, no one moved as they saw Roger leading Titania in the dance, her bared feet barly touching the ground as she stepped lively, a radiant smile on her beautiful face.

The Gealach of Tir na nOg was among them on a Hallowe'en night. Samhain was truly here.

The one night of the year when the barrier between the worlds was down and the spirits could come out and play among the mortals.

Paul and Maeve Shannon soon joined them, thus breaking the spell and within moments, many others joined in.

Even Spriggan fell under Titania's spell and he danced in his own way with a beaming Silky as his partner.

Roger smiled as he saw Anastasia whirling past with a lively Warren Johnson and he nearly laughed when he saw Freya dancing with the two acrobats she'd met at faire.

He noted that Dena was still slung across Freya's back as she whirled with the two acrobats.

Over their heads, the swirling sprites in their hundreds had formed a glowing canopy from the sparkling trails they'd leave behind when flying at night.

For those blessed with the sight, it was incredibly beautiful and very romantic indeed.

For those who lacked the sight, they only saw a soft glow overhead and for them, it too was beautiful and romantic.

Many a heart was captured that magical night when the Portland Science Fantasy Society and the Canterbury Shire folk met the Gealach of Tir na nOg.

Even the shy wood elves joined in and danced on the green before the Karloff research library high above Wolf Hills, the most unusual neighborhood in Portland, Oregon.

Midnight came far too soon for many and as Roger separated from Titania, she lightly caressed his cheek and purred, "You were my greatest disappointment my dear. I'd always thought no mortal man could resist me, you proved me wrong but I do forgive you, you sweet man."

He smiled at the queen of the night and replied, "Had I room in my heart for you, I would have gladly risked becoming your next beast of burden for that sweetest moment of pleasure between us."

She sighed, "Yes, that would have been likely, Oberon can get sooo jealous that he just has to transform my dalliances into donkeys, the poor things."

She looked over at the pack of black dogs still contentedly gnawing on Oberon's sprawling form, his face a mask of unutterable pleasures.

She turned to Roger and they kissed each other deeply, for there would not be another opportunity to kiss like this for a long year, or at least until winter solstice.

Their lips parted and she murmured, "Fare thee well, sweet man o'mine, it was wonderful to dance with you!"

Stepping back Titania spoke, "The hour of midnight is upon us, our night is over. The morrow brings the return of the foreign god and his followers. Come my people, let us us return to our realm until winter solstice!"

Within moments, they had stepped back through the door into summer and the blessed evening had ended.

The revelers would remember this evening as merely a wonderful dream, their own mid summer night's dream.

Roger and company gathered together and went back to the big house while the revelry continued unabated.

They would begin cleaning up in the morning, after Anastasia and Sheila had left for home.

54