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.

123. Chapter 123

A visitor from the east.

In early July, a letter arrived from Romania.

Intrigued by the envelope with the foreign stamp and postal address, Roger turned it over in his hand as he took it into his semi-organized study.

"Who could this be from?" he thought as he slid his letter opener along the top edge of the envelope.

The letter read:

"Roger Tate,

Wolf Hills Manor,

Portland, Oregon

U.S.A.

Dear Mr. Tate.

During the month of August, I plan on traveling to the United States for pleasure, not business.

I wish to come to your house as a guest, not as a security professional.

I would like to train with Ms. Sheila Ericcson to improve my combat skills and enjoy a vacation.

Is this a possibility?

Please advise.

Warm regards,

Alexandra Wolf."

Roger smiled at the somewhat formal tone of the brief letter and picked up his phone.

He punched in a series of numbers, hit 'talk' and waited.

A few rings later a familiar voice answered, "Hi Roger, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Answered Sheila Ericcson, a dear friend of Anastasia's and towering former Claymore warrior.

"I got a letter from Alexandra Wolf today, it seems she wants to come visit and she asked about possibly training with you while she's here.

Is that possible?"

Sheila chuckled slightly and replied, "When is this blessed event taking place?"

"During the month of August when Freya and I will be up in Canada with her folks."

"Are you wanting me to come up and watch the house?"

Roger chuckled and replied, "With Silky here? Not a chance. It's mostly to keep Alexandra busy while we're gone. What say you?"

Sheila paused briefly to check her calendar then said, "I could use a break from things down here, when do you want me up there?"

"Beginning of August will be fine."

"August first it is!"

"Thanks Sheila, I'll let her know you're coming up and we'll go from there."

"I'll see you then!"

Having taken care of that minor issue, Roger got out a sheet of paper and wrote briefly:

"Dear Alexandra, everything is a go here, we'll have a room ready for you when you get here.

Looking forward to seeing you.

Regards,

Roger Tate."

He addressed an envelope to her, slipped his reply in it and set it aside to be mailed in the morning.

That evening at dinner, with everyone seated he announced, "The first of next month we will have Sheila Ericcson and Alexandra Wolf staying here while Freya and I are up in Canada."

Without skipping a beat Anita commented, "Are they going to 'babysit' us?"

Roger merely grinned and replied, "Unless there's a side of you I haven't seen yet, that won't be necessary. Alexandra is coming here on vacation and asked if Sheila could come up and train with her. Sheila said yes, so they'll be doing a lot of sparring and working out."

"No time for a party then?"

"Probably not."

Warren finished a bite of food and asked, "Where will they be staying?"

"Sheila pretty much has her own room here, as in it's where her portmanteau is kept. Alexandra will be given one of the old servants rooms after it gets cleaned up a bit and fresh linen is put on the bed." Replied Roger.

"Did you mean the room where that big old trunk looking thing is kept?"

"Yep, and the room that always kept spotless, is Anna's room when she comes to visit."

"Ah."

Anita grinned and said, "I'll pick out a room for her and we'll clean it up."

"We'll? What do you mean by we'll?" asked Flora.

Anita smiled at the young Northern wood nymph and said, "You and I will be cleaning it up. Then if you like, we can pick out a room for you too!"

Flora quickly replied, "You know I'm a creature of the forest, a wood nymph. I could never live in a house, I'm too wild. Be grateful I can wear clothes and come inside for meals and a quiet evening by the fire. Beyond that, I'd feel caged."

Having said that, Flora smiled at the slightly built teenager and said, "I'll help you clean the room you spoke of, but I'll sleep under the stars that night."

"Okay, fair enough. But, if you ever change your mind..."

"You'll be the first to know!" retorted Flora with a cheerful grin on her lovely face.

Warren cleared his throat and asked, "What are you two going to do up in Canada?"

Freya replied, "'Tis fur me camin' ay age ceremony, me birthday is next month an' Ah'll be eigh'een an' at marriageable age."

"I'll be going hunting for the village's meat supply. Anything I shoot will be smoked for the winter." remarked Roger.

Everyone fell silent at Freya's remarks about marriageable age.

Jotun maidens were almost required to marry and bear healthy children.

With Freya's coming of age, there was a likelihood of her leaving to marry a Jotun male and starting a family.

They largely missed how quiet Roger became after hearing her remarks about becoming an eligible maiden ready to start seeking a husband.

The next morning after Freya had left for her morning classes, Roger and Dena drove down to the Troutdale airport and spent much of the day going over Moby Dick's mechanical systems.

The bulky Martin Mariner PBM 5-A was in fine fettle, but Roger still wanted it checked over as a precaution.

And with Dena being so tiny, she could wriggle into some pretty tight places to check something out.

After all, they often flew over some pretty rugged country and one could not be overly cautious when it came to maintaining an aircraft, particularly a world war two era sea plane with amphibious capabilities.

As usual there was a contingent of volunteers working on the neighboring B-17 bomber known as the 'Lacey Lady'.

The plane had sat atop a nearby filling station for many years until it was rescued and placed inside the large hangar it shared with Moby Dick.

This time, one of the volunteers had brought along his granddaughter and at some point, the child grew slightly bored and had wandered over to look over Moby Dick.

She could hear Roger talking to someone and wondered who he could be talking to.

Roger's baritone voice was distinctive and easily understood, it was the squeaking voice with a thick accent replying to his remarks that puzzled her.

She heard him say,"Everything looks good in there?"

The squeak replied, "Och aye it looks guid, nae corrosion tae see doon haur!"

He said, "Okay come on out of there, we're about done here for today."

Again the squeak replied, "Hokay! Ah'm camin' oot!"

Moments later, the child watched as a tiny blonde haired woman only two feet tall emerged from an access hatch and dusted herself off with a grin.

Her coveralls were filthy from crawling around inside the plane, her blonde hair was covered by a yellow scarf and she had smudges on her pretty face.

She stood on the wing while Roger closed up the access hatch and tightened the screws.

The child's eyes grew very large and when she finally found her voice she exclaimed, "Grampa! There's a talking doll over here!"

"What's that you said?" replied her grandfather.

"This man has a talking doll with him, she just came out of the plane's wing!" Cried the girl as she pointed towards Roger and Dena.

The older man came over to see what his granddaughter was hollering about and when he saw Dena, he chuckled and said pleasantly, "Hello Dena, it's nice to see you again!"

He smiled at his granddaughter and said, "This is Dena, she's a woodelf and yes, she is real."

Roger picked up Dena and clambered back down the rolling step ladder.

Setting her down, he rolled the step ladder back over to where it was kept when not in use.

The girl was staring wide eyed at Dena while she took off her grimy coveralls, her scarf and wiped off her face with a wetwipes.

Finally, the tiny woodelf looked over at the girl and squeaked, "Can Ah help ye? Ye keep starin' at me."

The child screwed up her courage and said bravely, "My name is Sherry and it's a pleasure to meet you miss Dena."

Dena grinned at the girl and said, "It's a pleasure tae meit ye too Sherry."

Roger and the older man shook hands and he said, "What brings you two down here today?"

"Freya and I are getting ready to head up to Canada early next month, so I'm just giving the old bird a once over, just because." replied Roger.

The man grinned at Roger's comment, one could never be too careful when it came to aircraft.

"Where is Freya these days?"

"She's taking classes over at Portland U. She's going for a library sciences degree."

The child asked, "Who's Freya?"

Her grandfather smiled at her and said, "She also flies this plane and she's helped out with our bird a number of times."

He pointed out a bulletin board hung on the hanger wall, "There's a picture of her we took last year while she was helping us, go take a look!"

"She's the really tall one with the red hair!"

The child skipped over to the bulletin board and after a few moments she cried out, "Freya's so big! She's like a giant or something."

When the girl had returned Roger smiled at her and said, "If you want to meet Freya, we have a hallowe'en observance at our house every year. Ask your grampa to bring you, he has our address."

"But!" he said with a grin, "You'll have to get good grades in school!"

The girl smiled brilliantly and chirped, "I will!"

Having finished up at the airport Roger and Dena headed home in his tiny Japanese truck.

With its tiny engine purring contentedly, the little truck slipped through the traffic with ease as it could slip through any openings that popped up.

Roger was very good at nip and tuck driving.

While he was driving, his cell phone buzzed indicating that he'd gotten a text message.

Dena promptly opened up his phone and said, "'Tis frae Silky, she's wantin' ye tae get a twa gallon tub ay chocolate ice cream at th' dairy."

Roger nodded at her remarks and steered towards their neighborhood dairy.

Upon seeing the colorful Oakview Dairy sign, Roger pulled in and parked.

He took up Dena's tiny form, tucked her into the crook of his arm and headed into the store.

Laura Thornhill was restocking in the fresh dairy case when she spotted the two coming in.

She smiled at the sight of Dena snuggled in Roger's crooked arm while he looked at the frozen sections case.

She called out, "Well, hello there! Need any help?"

"We're good actually, just came to get some ice cream and some heavy cream...Where's the two gallon tubs?"

"Second case to your left!"

"Ah, thanks! I see it now."

Roger deftly opened the case and picked up a frosty tub of the ice cream requested.

Balancing it on one hand while still cradling Dena, he quickly stepped over to the cash register and plunked it down.

Laura took out a quart bottle of heavy cream from the refrigerated cabinet behind her, smiled at the two of them and said cheerfully, "I'm a little surprised to see you out shopping with Roger, Dena. No concerns about being seen?"

"Nae warries, if Ah hauld still, fowk'll hink Ah'm a doll."

Laura chuckled and remarked candidly, "The trick, is getting you to hold still my dear!"

Roger stifled a grin at Laura's remark then nearly chuckled when Dena retorted.

"Ah kin hauld still, pure Ah can, yoo'll see!"

Laura smirked and replied, "I believe you." then rolled her eyes.

Still smiling, Laura slipped the tub of ice cream and the cream into a paper bag, held out her hand and said, "That'll be $14.50 please."

Roger laid fifteen dollars on her opened palm and said, "Keep the change!"

Laura grinned and said, "Grammercy!"

"Will we be seeing you all at Canterbury this week end?"

Roger smiled and said, "Of course!" as he took up the bag by the handles and left the store.

Placing the bag inside the cooler, he cranked up the mini truck and headed home.

On the way, Dena nearly caused a child to throw a fit when the child looked over at a stop light and noticed Dena talking to Roger.

The child began wildly gesticulating and pointing towards them as she tried to get her mother's attention.

At the next stop light, a long one unfortunately, the child rolled down her window and began calling out, "Where did you get that doll? I want one of those!"

Her mother rolled her own window down and yelled, "What did you do to my daughter?! Why is she raising such a fuss?"

Roger glanced down at Dena and muttered, "Were you making faces at that child?"

Then he looked at the woman and hollered back, "I have no idea what you're talking about lady!"

Dena at that point stood up and in her own defense cried, "Ah did nae make onie faces at anybody, Ah was talkin' tae ye, Ah swear!"

The mother gaped at seeing Dena standing in her seat and speaking up in her own defense, then the girl yelled, "I told you I was seeing a talking doll, I wasn't lying!"

Mercifully, the green arrow came on and Roger made a hasty left turn while the woman was forced to wait for the green to go straight.

By the time she was able to follow after him, he was long gone, having disappeared down a side street and taking a circuitous detour back home.

By the time they got home, the ice cream had softened a bit, so before it got put away Roger got out a couple of tiny bowls and he served himself and Dena, a bit of ice cream despite Silky's disapproving looks.

She forgave him when he showed her the quart bottle of heavy cream he'd bought for her.

That weekend they all piled into Roger's tall van and drove down to Silverton, Oregon near where the Canterbury Shire Renaissance faire was held each year.

After parking the van and shutting it off, Roger grinned and said, "Welp, we're here. God help the natives!"

The van doors opened and within moments they had piled out and were stretching a bit before donning the rest of their garb and heading towards the gates.

As a group, they were hard to miss with Freya standing just over nine feet tall now and clad in a Beefeater's livery.

Flora with her horns, seductive curves and deerlike legs in view thanks to a short, pleated skirt and matching bodice.

Roger's lean, sunburnt adventurer look and Dena's tiny, curvy self.

Perched atop Roger's ranger hat was tiny April, her jewel like lacy wings vibrating in anticipation of her seeing her friends at the faire.

To most people, she looked like a pretty hat ornament Roger was wearing as an affectation.

Little did they realize she was a sprite, a tiny denizen of the woodlands rarely seen by humans blundering about with all their noise and commotion.

With tickets in hand, they approached the gate while ignoring the gawkers who had never seen either a Jotun lass or a Northern wood nymph and failed to notice Dena talking to Roger while even tinier April looked about, searching for her many friends.

The gate keeper smiled at Roger when he handed her his tickets and winked.

She broke into a grin and winked at Dena who grinned back and waved at her.

She waggled a finger at April and said to one and all, "Welcome back M'lord, M'ladies! Please enjoy the faire!"

Once inside, Freya joined up with the Beefeater squad while Flora stayed close to Roger, and would remain at his side until they found Anita and she joined her at her booth.

To stave off a thirst, Roger headed to the nearest ale stand where he purchased drinks for all concerned and left a generous tip.

With foaming tankards in hand, they made their way to Warren's booth to pay him a call.

His booth was easy to find as it usually had the form of a gigantic gray wolf lounging about in the shade of the big oak tree just outside.

The oak tree that had a tree spirit living in it, unbeknownst to most people.

Roger knew that because he could see her as she sat on a limb and watched the faire goers at play.

This time, a tiny red renfairy named Maribel was draped over Astrid's massive form, her delicate fingers digging into the dense gray fur.

As always, Maribel's face had that faraway look of the otherworldly being she was portraying.

Roger smiled at her and muttered, "Nice look you're rockin'!" as he entered Warren's booth.

She suppressed a grin to stay in character.

Inside the rustic booth he saw Warren dressed as a border riever and tiny Helga dressed in her woodwife attire of a long blue dress, a green bodice with a red jacket and matching shoes.

She smiled at Roger and Dena as they entered.

"Hail and well met!" declared Warren with a grin on his leprechaunesque face as he held out a large tankard.

"Imperial Russian stout!" he declared.

Roger replied,"Stella Artois, good for the summer's heat!" as he clunked his tankard against Warren's.

The two men grinned and exchanged tankards, then hoisted them to their lips just before saying, "Slainte!"

And taking a mighty sup.

After taking Warren's tankard down a peg, Roger lowered the hefty tankard and grinned.

"Smuggled this in, did you?" he asked.

Warren merely grinned and replied, "Well, I am descended from a border riever clan, just keeping up a family tradition!"

"What better place to honor a family tradition than here, at Canterbury Shire!"

Warren grinned at Roger's comment, then looked at Flora with an appreciative eye.

"You're certainly looking fetching today, Flora."

Flora grinned and said, "If I really wanted to be 'fetching' as you put it, I wouldn't bother with clothing."

Warren laughed and retorted, "Yes, I know. I've seen you in your 'natural state' many times, distracting, very distracting and very hard to forget!"

Flora flushed slightly at Warren's remark and replied, "I can't help being what I am, and being naked is my natural state."

She glanced down at her outfit and said, "Anita went through a lot of trouble to make this for me and as she is my best friend, I wear it for her."

Roger handed Warren back his pegged tankard and said, "Speaking of Anita, I'm going to take Flora to her, then come back or wander about the faire a bit."

Warren nodded at his remarks and returned Roger's tankard, "Either way, I'll be here until closing time."

Dena chimed, "Ah'll stay haur an' gab wi' Helga 'til ye get back."

Roger chuckled and said, "Don't be drinking up all of Warren's ale now, we've still gotta appear at tonight's after faire party."

"As if!" squeaked Dena while Helga giggled.

Flora stepped out of Warren's booth and Roger fell in beside her as she headed towards the Larsen's ale stand.

Taking his hand in hers, Flora headed unerringly towards the ale stand where Anita worked with her mom.

Helen Larsen worked the ale stand every year and once Anita got old enough, she began helping her mom with the ale stand.

This year Flora Oakenwood would be helping out as well.

Wasting no time in looking at the merchants row offerings, they soon arrived at The Leaky Tankard ale stand, Helen Larsen and Daughter, Proprietors.

Helen spotted them first and grinned as she handed a shop keep's apron to Flora.

"Here, put this on so you don't get your outfit all wet when it gets busy."

As Flora slipped the apron over her horns and tied it behind herself she asked, "Does it really get that busy here?"

Helen grinned and replied, "At times it does, better to have it on and not need it after all."

Anita came out from behind the ale stand and grinned as she saw Roger and Flora then nodded her approval of Flora's shop apron A`la Anita Larsen, clearly her personal touch was in its design.

As Flora and Anita stepped behind the ale stand's counter, Roger grinned at Helen and said,"How're things over seas?"

Helen rolled her eyes and remarked,"Hectic as usual, I always look forward to coming here during my vacation. I know it sounds a little crazy, but trust me, running this stand can be a lot of fun and it gives me a chance to play catch up with Anita."

She glanced over at the two young women as they sold ale to thirsty patrons and collected the money, and said as an aside,"It allows me to keep an eye on her love life, I've known she's had a lover for a long time and they seem to be pretty serious and faithful to each other. He treats her well, I can't complain about that. Had he been a knucklehead..."

Roger chimed in, "I would have interfered, believe me."

He grinned, "Remember, I was embassy security, I still know people in the field and know who to call, if I have any concerns."

"Think of me and Warren as her watchful uncles!"

"I do and for that, I thank both of you!" replied Helen with a grin.

"You're quite welcome! Are you coming to the after faire tonight?"

Helen shrugged and replied, "I'm thinking about it, one of the other faire regulars invited me to join him tonight. I may go."

Roger chuckled, "Anyone I might know? I've met a number of the faire folk here over the years."

Helen merely grinned and deflected his question with one of her own, "Where are they?"

"They?"

"You know perfectly well who I mean by 'they'."

Roger chuckled and remarked, "Freya is on duty with the Beefeaters and Dena is with Warren Johnson and Helga at his booth. I've answered your question, now it's your turn to answer mine!"

Helen laughed and retorted, "I'm not one for kissing and telling. And we're not serious, he just asked me to join him tonight."

"Should I be wondering how you became a free range Roger? I've always seen you with one or the other."She asked.

Roger laughed and replied,"With Freya in college now, we're not up under each other so much now and I'm not entirely 'free range' as you put it. Believe me I'm still being 'supervised'."

Helen grinned at him and said, "I'd better get back to minding the ale stand, just in case a 'pub crawl' happens by."

"Care for a refill, before you go?"

Roger handed her his tankard with a grin and said, "How could I refuse?"

With a foaming tankard in hand, Roger toddled back to Warren's booth where he found him engaging in a slightly heated discourse with a woman who seemed more fae than most, in both manner and appearance.

Looking somewhat like an aging hippie, she wore a long flowing dress made of tie dyed pale green linen fabric, her graying hair was worn long down past her shoulders.

On her feet were a pair of handmade leather sandals and a matching belt was cinched about her slim waist.

She turned out to be the owner of the booth and the maker of the porcelain figurines he was selling.

Holding back slightly, Roger listened to the exchange and soon realized the topic of discussion were none other than Dena and Helga themselves, as they sat crosslegged on a straw bale, trying to be inconspicuous.

The woman pointed at them and exclaimed, "You've known them all these years and never thought to tell me?"

"I never told you because Dena asked me not to Yanna, and Helga is a more recent addition to my household, by extension I added her to Dena's request."

Yanna threw up her hands and said, "I'm not a blabber mouth and besides, who would believe me? Wood elves aren't supposed to exist, remember?"

She glanced at their adorable forms and sighed, "Apparently they do exist after all."

Yanna then smiled at them and said, "What else will I see here today besides you two?"

Warren chuckled and remarked, "If I had an adderstone handy you would see wonderful things, things that abide here and things we brought with us."

"Such as?"

Roger at this point spoke up, "I can help with that."

He reached into his holding bag, took out a tiny wooden container and a whistle.

He turned and blew through the whistle momentarily, which made no sound human ears could hear.

Yanna looked at him and said, "And who may you be?"

Roger held up a finger and said, "Give it a moment and I'll answer your question."

There came the sudden sound of many tiny wings and a chittering sound as a swarm of sprites flew into the booth and circled around, all a twitter.

Among the tittering sprites was one dressed differently from the rest, a pretty young sprite girl who then settled on Roger's shoulder and in a distinct voice, said, "Choclit?"

Standing on his shoulder in plain sight was a beautiful young sprite named April, dressed in a gauzy outfit made of house spider webs, she stood no more than a few inches tall and had lacy, insect like wings.

Roger smiled at her and as he opened up the small wooden container, her wings vibrated in anticipation.

"I have enough for all of you to have one, piece, each, so don't be greedy and don't crowd, and I'll give each of you a piece of chocolate."

At his remark, the sprites all settled onto one of the straw bales and became plainly visible.

Roger held out his small container and with April supervising, he gave each sprite a bit of chocolate.

Yanna swayed on her feet and Warren helped her to a bale, once seated she began softly weeping and dabbing at her eyes.

She murmured, "In all my years of being at faires, I never once thought I'd actually see anything like this...I don't know what to say except thank you, for letting me see these beautiful little beings!"

The spritely horde tittered amongst themselves at her remarks and April said in her squeak of a voice, "They're sayin' 'at yoo're welcome."

Yanna smiled, placed her hands over her heart and said, "I have no words for how I'm feeling right now. I grew up reading every fairy tale I could find. Whenever I went into the woods near my house, I would pretend I was in an enchanted forest, peopled with all the beings I could only read about."

She sighed, "Now that I am old, I find myself sitting on a straw bale inside my own booth and seeing at long last, two wood wives and a whole bunch of sprites. My heart is so full of happiness now I just want to dance!"

Once again, Yanna looked at Roger and asked, "Who, are you again?"

Warren said, "Yanna, I'd like you to meet Roger Tate, field investigator for the Museum of Cryptozoology. He and I are partly responsible for the proliferation of sprites in this area."

"Roger, this is Yanna, she makes the figures that I sell for her at this booth, in short, she's my boss during faire."

Roger did a courtly bow towards her and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Yanna."

Yanna smiled and replied, "The pleasure's all mine, and how is it you two are responsible for the sprites living here?"

Roger grinned and replied, "To keep it short and sweet. A couple of years ago we used my companion's needing to gain driving experience, to have her drive us and a couple loads of bat boxes and sprite hidey holes down here so we could put them up, She gained experience in maneuvering a trailer and the bats and sprites got more places to live. A win, win in my book!"

Yanna grinned and said, "And very good for your karma as well!"

"Is your companion here?"

Warren chuckled and said, "She's here alright, she's one of the beefeaters, you can't miss her!"

Roger smiled and said, "She'll be here at the after faire party. You are going to be here, are you not?"

Yanna grinned, "Of course I will be here, I've got a few acquaintances to renew!"

Roger grinned, "They'll be glad to see you no doubt!"

He glanced at the tiny horde of sprites and said, "Alright kids, Yanna needs her booth back and I'm sure Astrid's back is much more comfortable!"

At his comment, the spritely horde rose into the air and swirled outside where they settled on Astrid's deep fur as she snoozed in the shade beneath the big oak tree nearby.

Yanna said softly, "That explains why her fur was sooo awry, it was full of sprites!"

Roger chuckled and said, "No fleas or ticks will ever be found on her or any of her family, the sprites eat them!"

"Seriously?"

He grinned and replied,"The sprites that live with us help tend our fruit trees and gardens, they'll eat any harmful insects they see and leave the good insects alone. In turn we give them hidey holes and nibblies. They love chocolate morsels like crazy!"

Yanna smiled and said, "I'd love to see your place, it sounds like heaven!"

Warren chimed in, "Where are you staying?"

Yanna replied, "In my booth of course!"

"I mean during the week?"

"In my booth..."

Warren cleared his throat and said, "What I'm getting at, is that you're welcome to stay with me, I have a cottage behind the library I work at. It's just me, Helga and Astrid and we have a spare cot you can sleep on, we have a small kitchen, or we can get meals down at the big house where Roger, Freya and Dena live."

"I don't want to impose..."

"If I'm inviting you, you're not imposing!" Stressed Warren.

In the distance a gun boomed, thus signalling the close of faire for the weekend.

Warren grinned and quickly hung out the 'Sorry, We're closed!' sign and began taking down the figurines to put away.

Yanna smiled and began tallying up the sales while Warren and Roger took down the display items.

Dena and Helga sat quietly at first while they worked, then they grew bored and went outside to sit with Astrid's massive lupine form.

Before long, a couple of Beefeaters strolled by to politely encourage last minute shoppers to conclude their transactions and make ready to leave.

One of them was Freya, resplendent in her scarlet and black Elizabethan era uniform, she silently loomed over the dawdling visitors while her human partner politely shooed them towards the gates.

She stooped slightly to look into Warren's booth and ask, "Ur we stayin' fur th' efter faire party?"

Yanna gaped at Freya's size and stared at her while both Warren and Roger nodded an affirmative.

Freya grinned and resumed her yeomanly duties of shooing the dawdlers towards the gates.

Yanna finally found her voice and she exclaimed,"You two know her? She's a giantess for real!"

Roger grinned and said, "That's Freya, my companion, we've been living together for about nine years now."

Yanna stared at Freya's retreating form and said,"Is she one of those Jotuns I've heard about? I sure never expected to see one here, of all places!"

Warren grinned and said, "She's been coming to this faire for about four years now, just about as long as I've been coming here."

Yanna looked at him and said accusingly, "What else have you seen here that I haven't heard about?"

She grinned, "Confession is good for the soul!"

Warren was about to reply when, Roger cleared his throat and said,"All will be revealed at the house, once you get there."

"What he said!" quipped Warren.

A half hour later, Freya turned up at the booth wearing a more prosaic outfit, with her were Anita and Flora wearing their tavern maid outfits, only Flora's was a bit shorter where the skirt was concerned with her slender, deerlike legs, tail and cloven hooves, in plain sight.

Warren grinned at the Northern wood nymph and said cheerfully, "Rockin' those legs of yours, eh?"

He looked over at the gobsmacked Yanna and said, "These are Freya Sigurdsdottir, Flora Oakenwood, and Anita Larsen, they're all good friends of mine."

"Yanna here owns this booth and makes the porcelain figures I sell for her."

The girls smiled at Yanna and said their hellos and pleased to meet yous, almost in unison.

Yanna quickly recovered her wits and replied,"It's my pleasure to meet all of you!"

Roger picked up Dena and cradled her in his arm before saying, "The party's that way!"

Warren took up Helga in one arm, then offered Yanna his other arm and she gratefully took it.

They walked a bit more sedately while Roger and company, strode ahead hoping to get good seats at the communal dinner tables.

Arriving at the Green Man inn, they were served by Laura Thornhill herself while Tom labored at the stove, striving to keep up with the bubbling pots and simmering skillets.

By the time Warren, Helga and Yanna showed up, Roger and company were already seated and enjoying their food.

Before long the party was in full swing, Anita's long time paramour had asked her to dance with him and they were now dancing joyously, whirling about, their eyes sparkling, their faces glowing from the emotions they shared.

Warren was dancing a bit more sedately with Yanna who'd had to be coaxed onto the dance floor.

On her graying head she wore an ivy circlet with yellow clover flowers woven into it.

Seated within it was a sprite, enjoying the ride.

Roger found himself with a rather full dance card, he started out with Freya of course, his left arm about level with her hips, while his right hand was entwined with hers as they circled the floor.

Next he danced with Flora, who had the eye of every young man there, as they were captivated by her exotic beauty and delicate legs.

Then he danced with Dena and Helga, who danced in place on a handy bar stool while he circled about the stool.

Lastly he danced with Maribel, the tiny renfairy who happened to share a name with Maribel, the sprite who had come to live with Roger and Freya.

Maribel was dressed as a red fairy in a skin tight outfit seemingly made out of gauze that emphasized her tiny, taut, insanely cute form.

Dierdre Shannon danced atop a wooden wine barrel in a display of her dancing skills, while her parents danced only with each other, their deep love apparent to all concerned.

Roger smiled when he saw Helen Larsen dancing with Tom Shannon, Dierdre's grandfather and Canterbury shire stalwart.

He winked at her as he and Anita whirled past.

Anita grinned at him and said gaily, "They've known each other for years!"

Roger laughed and retorted, "Like you and Raphael have known each other?"

Anita's eyes twinkled in merriment and she said, "Not yet, but I won't mind, mom needs a bit of romance in her life to make it more interesting!"

Roger laughed as he and Anita whirled within proximity of Raphael and Flora.

There was a brief moment of whirling limbs and spinning bodies changing their orbits, then Roger whirled away with Flora, while Anita spun away with her long time paramour.

Roger purred, "Doubtless they'll be seeking a bit of privacy for their next dance!"

Flora's marvelous lips curved in a smile and she purred, "Why not? He treats her like the treasure that she is and she enjoys his attention."

"What young woman wouldn't want to enjoy him? He is quite the catch!"

Roger chuckled and said, "Yet he dresses up like a Puritan, frowning upon all forms of enjoyment, including the best form of all, the joy of being with a lover!"

"Funny how that is." replied Flora with a shrug.

Returning home from their day and evening at Canterbury Shire, Freya steered the tall van into the driveway and the lights swept across a Honda Oddyssey minivan parked in front of the house.

No one was inside the vehicle, Roger noted.

"They must be inside waiting for us." he muttered.

"Any idea who it might be?" asked Flora.

"We'll find out soon enough. It must be someone Silky knows, as she would take stern measures if they weren't friends of ours."

Flora chuckled and said quietly, "So I've heard!"

She well remembered Silky's reaction the first time she came into the house, and how quickly she was firmly shown the door.

Granted, she was quite naked at the time and she was in the kitchen being shown the stove.

"Shall we go in?" said Roger.

"Jist open th' duir awreddy! Ah'm tired an' want tae gang tae scratcher." Muttered Dena in her piccolo of a voice.

Roger chuckled as he tucked her into his arm and said drily, "Yes, dear!"

Freya only rolled her bright blue eyes and muttered about Dena leading him around by the nose as Roger opened the front door and set Dena down.

Once inside they followed the sounds of clinking tea cups and civilized conversation into the front parlour, where they beheld Anna Karlsen and Sheila Ericcson enjoying a tray of nibblies, a cup of delicious tea, a pleasant fire and four gigantic wolves snoozing by the fire.

Anna smiled brilliantly and exclaimed, "You're home a bit earlier than we had figured on!"

"Well, hello to you too!" chuckled Roger as she rose to her feet and moved in for a lingering hug.

Squeezing her slender form gently he said, "Sheila I was expecting. You, are the surprise! Welcome home!"

Their lips met in a brief kiss and Anna said gaily, "I needed to escape from L.A. For a bit, Sheila was coming up here and I hitched a ride. What better place to hide out in than here!"

"There's always a ruined castle, somewhere in the Carpathians!"

Anna wrinkled up her lovely nose in mock disgust and said, "No thanks, musty old castles are such a cliche`, give me a cozy room, a pot of tea, my writing tools arrayed to my liking and a great story idea, anytime!"

Roger chuckled at her remarks and turned to greet Sheila.

The towering ex-warrior smiled at him as she too came in for a hug.

As always, Roger felt his bones creak and his breath went 'woosh' just before she kissed him lightly.

As they separated he said, "You really don't know your own strength, girl!"

Sheila grinned and said cheerfully, "Actually, I do know my own strength, you're one of the few men who knows what I am, that and I can give you a proper hug in my own way!"

Hearing the rustling of nibblies taking place, Roger glanced down and saw Dena taking a few of the said nibblies and placing them in a paper napkin, obviously for later.

"I thought you were tired!" he said.

To which Dena responded, "These ur fur a wee snack afore scratcher!"

"Snacking like that before bed can cause you to gain weight, you know."

"As if onie snacks will stick tae me! Ah ne'er gain weecht."

"If you say so my dear." replied Roger with a hint of an eye roll.

Ignoring his sarcasm, Dena folded up the filled to bursting napkin, tossed it over her shoulder and strode off to their bedroom, head held high.

Anna turned her attention to Flora and Freya next.

She smiled at Freya and said,"How do you like university, so far?"

Freya replied,"Ah loch it jist fine, 'tis naethin' loch high skale was wi' its quine bee types an' bullies waitin' tae pounce oan someain."

Anna chuckled and remarked, "Yes, your fellow students are there to learn something, not to see who is the most popular."

Freya stifled a yawn and said apologetically, "Ah've had a lang day an' Ah hae tae be up early oan th' morrow, please excuse me."

Anna smiled and moved in for a brief hug from the towering young giantess before saying cheerfully, "Go to bed, we'll talk more tomorrow!"

Sheila grinned and said, "What she said!" as she too, went in for a hug, only this time she went 'oof!' before she said gaily, "And here I thought I didn't know my own strength!"

Freya chuckled and replied, "Ye, Ah can hug mair strongly than most, Ah ne'er hug onie a wee body wi' me full strength, Ah'd hurt them."

Sheila laughed at her remark and said, "I'll see you tomorrow then!"

As Freya strode from the front parlour, Anna looked at Flora and grinned,"You, my dear, are getting to be sooo cute!" she gushed "I love your outfit, did Anita make it for you?"

Flora flushed slightly at Anna's enthusiasm and said,"Much of what I wear is made by Anita, she calls them 'Larsen Originals'!"

Anna laughed and said gaily, "Of course she does, that girl has so much talent it's scary sometimes!"

Flora glanced at Roger and Anna then said, "If you'll excuse me, I have some things to do before I go to bed."

She grinned at Roger and went in for hug and a brief kiss before saying, "Thank you for inviting me to the faire, I had fun."

Roger smiled at the lovely Northern wood nymph and said, "You're welcome dear, it was my pleasure."

With that Flora slipped away and out the kitchen door to head home to her hollowed out oak tree near the woods.

Anna looked around and asked, "So, where is Anita? Didn't she come home with you?"

Roger smiled and said, "She drove herself and is likely staying the night with her paramour."

"Oh? A paramour? Pray, tell me more!" said Anna, her eager for gossip expression indicating her interest.

"She has a long time paramour named Raphael, they've known each other since she was thirteen and he was fifteen. Apparently they are exclusive to each other, no side relationships and he treats her like a queen, or so I'm told."

Sheila chuckled at Anna's expression, and laughed when she grumbled, "Roger, someday I am going to choke you for not telling me everything!"

Roger could only shrug and say, "Sorry? I kinda thought you knew, since you two are so close and all."

"No, I didn't know actually. Then again, I don't tell her everything I do either." said Anna a bit glumly.

Roger merely rolled his eyes and took a seat on the couch, where he helped himself to a cup of tea and a plate of nibblies.

Having acquired his sweetened comestibles, he took a sip of his tea then said,"You guys are a week early, Alexandra won't get here until August first or second?"

He paused, "Freya and I won't be leaving until mid-August and we'll be gone about two weeks."

Sheila merely shrugged and remarked, "I came early because I could and Anna asked if she could tag along, I figured why not?"

Anna chuckled and said, "I was feeling a little stagnant in L.A. So I figured I'd come up here for some inspiration!"

"Inspiration, or catching up on some juicy gossip?" remarked Roger with his trademark crooked grin in place.

"Both, actually!" replied Anna with a laugh.

She grinned, "I fully intend on pouncing on Anita when she gets home!"

"Which will be sometime tomorrow afternoon most likely!"

"I can wait...Then I'll pounce!"

Roger laughed as he finished off his tea and popped a nibblie into his mouth.

Moments later he said, "Ladies, it's been fun but I've got things to do tomorrow, so if you'll excuse me, I've got some sack time to catch up on!"

Anna grinned and said roguishly, "I don't know how you do it, you're sleeping between a giantess and a wood elf. Most guys would've gone bonkers by now with desire."

"It's a tough job, but somebody's go to do it!" Quipped Roger as he strolled out of the front parlour, poured a cup of fresh cream for Silky and went upstairs to the master bedroom he shared with Freya, Dena and at times tiny April, his spritely companion.

Before dawn the next morning, Roger woke in a tangle of limbs and a couple of warm bodies, one large and the other quite small, snuggling against his.

Dena as always, was utterly shameless in her nudity and curled up against his chest, her head just underneath his chin.

Freya simply had her long arms and long legs wrapped around the two of them, her sole concession to modesty was, at Roger's insistence, she wore her underpanties while sleeping.

He lay in this delightful conundrum for a few moments, then he slowly eased his way out of the warmth of his bedmates' arms and legs.

Gently replacing the blanket over his slumbering companions, he slipped into the en suite bathroom and quietly performed his morning ablutions.

As it was the master bedroom for the former owners, everything was scaled to fit a couple standing about eight feet tall.

Roger got around the height issue by standing on a step stool while he washed up and shaved.

Having washed and shaved, he quietly got dressed and slipped downstairs for his breakfast.

Entering the kitchen he was greeted by the sight of Anna Karlsen AKA Anastasia Karloff, popular author and actual 260 year old vampire.

Standing at the huge cast iron stove and dressed in her P.J.s, an apron tied around her slender form, a scarf around her flaxen hair and a spatula in her hand.

She presented quite the happy homemaker image.

Wielding said spatula adroitly, she deftly turned over a rather impressive omelette and when it flopped over like she wanted it to, she grinned and said,"Grab a few plates, it's almost ready. Sheila's already dosed the coffee, made toast and laid out the table ware!"

Roger quickly fetched three plates as requested and stood ready to receive the fluffy yellow omelette currently being divided into three portions.

Sheila came in and took up one of the plates with a grin.

She said cheerfully, "I always get a kick out of seeing Anna playing at being the happy homemaker while she's up here."

Roger smiled at her comment and said,"Ordinarily, Silky does most of the cooking and loves to try any new recipes she's learned of."

He smiled, "Silky pretty much lets Anna do some of the cooking while she's here, as she enjoys it so."

Anna slipped her spatula under the smallest portion and handed it to Sheila with a smile.

Sheila grinned at her friend and slipped out of the kitchen to place her food at her seat.

Next, Anna doled out the other two portions and said firmly, "Now scoot! I'll be there shortly once I've turned this off."

Taking her at her word, Roger scooted into the dining room and placed the plates at their respective places.

Stepping behind Anna's chair, he waited until Anna came into the dining room and went to take her seat.

Once she was seated, he took his own seat and they began to eat.

Between bites Roger said to Anna,"I presume you'll be working on a story idea while you're here?"

Anna sipped her coffee and replied, "Yes, and no. I will be working on editing my latest novella and I will be pestering you about your own story. You've dropped more than a few hints and I want to know more!"

Roger chuckled and said, "I've compiled some of my recollections in somewhat chronological order and I'll give you a copy to read at your leisure. Mind you, much of it is from before I met Freya and may not be of much interest."

Anna smiled and remarked,"Much of my existence has been a tale of survival after I was turned. The shock of learning what I had become, of being given a small bag of gold coins and told to leave before the church caught up with me. The years of hiding and hunger and survival."

She said wistfully, "Things did get better once I started writing and my books sold well. Still, I had to hide my true nature from those I loved."

"Even now, only a very select few know what I am. Here I feel safe, no one knows me here, except for you and the others who live here."

She grinned, "Here, I don't have to worry about unwanted visitors popping up and knocking on my door."

Roger simply asked, "Is that woman I met at AX last year still popping up? I guess she didn't listen when I told her you weren't interested in a friendship with her."

Anna smiled and said, "Not so much now, she inherited a house near Las Vegas, Nevada and moved there recently."

"That's a good thing, right?"

"Good in that she can't just pop by anymore. If she's in town she'll turn up unannounced. Fortunately my house keeper is quite good at covering for me, and for her diligence, she is well compensated!"

Roger could only shake his head at her remarks and say,"Some people just don't get it when they are not wanted, they'll try to wear the object or person they desire down, with their persistence.

In my youth, I knew a girl who threw herself at a boy in our neighborhood for years, and years.

He treated her like dirt and even gave her an STD he'd gotten from a hooker in some Nevada brothel, yet she stuck by him. Me? I was always sensitive to the impressions I was getting from others. If I felt unwelcome or like an after thought, I didn't stick around and because of that, I had a fairly lonely upbringing.

Having a father in prison and a druggie mother who abandoned me, didn't help any."

He smiled, "Freya makes me forget all of that, the failed marriages or disastrous relationships. None of them matter any more, not with her around."

Anna and Sheila smiled at each other knowingly and Roger was about to comment when he felt two long, lithe arms slipping around him from behind and Freya purred in his ear, "Ah'm glad tae hear ye say 'at abit me." as she squeezed him against her wonderful bosom.

Seconds later, the two foot tall curvy form of Dena Greenwood stood on the table in front of him and declared, "Dornt forget abit me! Ah'm haur fur ye too!"

Roger laughed and took Dena into his arms to hold her closely while she snuggled as only a wood wife can.

"How could I ever forget about you, my little bedbug!"

The aromas of Silky's cooking wafted into the dining room and Freya said, "Me breakfest is almost ready!"

She let go of Roger and strode into the kitchen, her long legs covering the distance swiftly.

Dena squirmed in his arms and Roger set her down on the floor so she too, could see about her own breakfast.

Moments later, Freya returned with a heavily laden plate in one hand and a generously large mug of coffee in the other.

She took her seat in the chair scaled to suit her nine foot two inch height and began to eat.

Dena trotted out not long after, handed her own little plate and coffee mug to Roger, then she too sat in her own chair scaled to fit her tiny, elfin form.

Roger set her food before her and with a grin, she began to eat.

It was while they were eating that Anita returned home from her night with her paramour.

True to her word, Anna pounced.

Anita came into the dining room with her breakfast and coffee on a tray, hardly had she placed her meal on the table and sat down, when Anna purred in her sweetest, most melodious tones.

"How was your evening?"

"My evening?"

"Yes, your evening with Raphael, evening."

Anita briefly frowned and grumbled, "Who blabbed?"

Anna smiled and said sweetly, "You're eighteen now, the age of consent. No one has the right to tell you who you can sleep with. That said, I asked about you last night and was told about Raphael, the young man you've been with since you were thirteen and he was fifteen."

Anita flushed and muttered, "Who else knows this?"

Roger cleared his throat and replied,"Your mom for one, she mentioned your relationship at faire yesterday."

"She knows?!" cried a flabbergasted Anita.

"Your mom works in security, she found a way to keep an eye on you."

"She's known for some time now apparently, and she approves of him because he treats you with respect."

At Anita's stunned look of disbelief, Roger added, "Had he turned out to be a knucklehead, I would have interfered with your mom's blessings. And so would Warren, think of us as your watchful uncles!"

He grinned, "Of course Axel would've tightened up anybody who tried to lay rough hands on you!"

Anita sat silently as she took in all that Roger had just said and finally, she asked, "Was it you that got that stalker I had, off my case?"

Roger merely smiled and nodded a 'yes', then he said simply, "You are like the niece I never had and while I tried not to hover overmuch, I did keep an eye on what was happening in your life. If I saw something I didn't like, I steered it away from you without being obvious about it."

Anita looked thoughtful and said quietly,"That explains why mom was always cool with my living here with you, she entrusted me with you."

"She also knows some of the people I knew from my days in embassy security, funny how that worked out!" quipped Roger.

Anita paused to think, then asked, "Did you know you and my mom had a connection when I first met you at Powell's, that night we met?"

"Not at first, then she looked into my past and found our connections. That was about the time she asked me if I could keep watch over you, while she went overseas."

Anita leaned back in her chair and sighed, then she chuckled slightly and said ruefully,"Here I thought I was sooo clever. Mom knew all along, I didn't fool her one bit...Damn, I should've guessed she'd find out, knowing what she does for a living."

Roger smiled at the slightly built teenager and said softly,"Your mom was once young too, she too thought she was so clever and she too got caught, because she forgot her own mother had been young at one time too."

"Every generation thinks that they have all the answers and the old folks are nothing but old fogeys. I learned a lot just by listening to my own grandfather when he told me his stories."

Roger sighed and said quietly, "He was my only source of wisdom, after my parents had let me down so badly. Had he lived a few years longer, I'm certain my own life would have been far different."

"Then again," he smiled, "had my life been different, I wouldn't have met any of you and we wouldn't be sitting in this big old house, having a breakfast made by a Manx house spirit named Silky, on this fine summer morning."

Anna grinned and said, "Speak for yourself, I made the breakfast you're eating, Silky made the rest."

Roger laughed, held up his coffee mug in a salute and said, "Once again, I stand corrected!"

The soft clopping sound of Flora's hooves preceded her as she entered the dining room with her own plate of food, courtesy of Silky.

She smiled at everyone as she took her seat next to Anita.

"Good morning everyone!" she said cheerfully.

Glancing around she asked, "Has Warren had breakfast yet?"

Seeing no response she elaborated, "I saw him with that mature woman from faire, walking around in the gardens and wondered if they'd eaten yet?"

Roger remarked, "I'm guessing that would be Yanna, she makes the little figurines he sells."

He smiled and said, "She's practically fae herself and she's likely thinking she's died and gone to heaven, after meeting you all."

Flora shrugged and said, "I haven't met her yet, I just saw him and Helga walking around with her, if that's who you're referring to?"

Roger grinned and said cheerfully, "Well, she's in for a real treat then."

He smiled and said, "In fact, they ought to be turning up right about...Now!"

Moments later, the back door to the kitchen opened and Warren entered with his guest, Yanna.

He could be heard to say, "We eat down here pretty regularly, the food is wonderful and the company is like family to me."

"The door is so tall and the ceilings are so high, why is that?" asked Yanna.

Warren replied,"The house was built for a retired circus giant couple, they both stood about eight feet tall and the house was built to their scale."

"Ah."

"In here is the kitchen, let's get our food and then, I'll introduce you!"

Anna looked over at Roger and muttered, "For someone who claims not to believe in the psychic, you certainly have an uncanny sense of timing. It's almost like you're following an unseen script or something!"

Anita started snickering at her remark and said,"Anna does have a valid point, you have a way of being somewhere at the right time and predicting what will happen next!"

She grinned, "You're rarely wrong."

Roger could only shrug and reply, "It's my inner lemur?"

"Lemur, what does a lemur have to do with that?"

"Lemurs are almost like our remote ancestors, the tiny tree dwellers who cowered under foot while the dinosaurs ruled the earth."

Anita was in the midst of formulating a truly snark laden response when Warren, Helga and Yanna came into the dining room, bearing plates laden with food and carrying mugs of coffee.

Yanna stopped short and squinted when she beheld Flora's curved horns, arcing from just above her hairline, splitting into two about halfway over her head and terminating just behind her head.

She was still squinting at Flora when Warren said, "Good morning everybody, this is Yanna, she makes the little porcelain figures I sell at faire."

"Yanna, I'd like you to meet Anna Karlsen, Sheila Ericsdottir and Flora Oakenwood. The others, you've already met!"

Yanna murmured, "She has horns, that girl has horns!"

"That's because she is a Northern wood nymph and not, a faun!" replied Warren.

"Was she at faire yesterday?"

"Yes, but she was working at an ale stand with Anita, that's why you never met her before."

"Those horns, they are for real?"

In reply, Flora slid her chair back, stepped away from the table and stood before Warren and Yanna.

Dressed in a cut off pair of overalls, her deerlike legs were plainly visible from mid thigh, clear down to her cloven and painted hooves, she smiled at Yanna and said, "Yes, my horns and my hooves are for real, I'm as real as you are!"

Yanna set her plate and coffee mug down, turned towards Flora and said in a voice thick with emotion. "All my life, I've longed to see creatures from our fairy tales, our fantasies. Reading books and watching movies were never really enough, I wanted to actually see, what I imagined they would look like."

She smiled and said wistfully, "This last weekend, my greatest wish came true, I saw beings from my fantasies. I know now the stories were true afterall...Thank you for being."

Flora smiled at the aging hippie of a woman and replied,"You're welcome Yanna."

After they had taken their seats and were tucking into their food, Warren said, "Yanna's going to stay with us for a couple of more days while we take her booth down and store it, then she's headed back down to Santa Cruz to work on her orders."

Roger sipped at his coffee and asked, "Where is it kept during the year?"

Yanna smiled and replied,"I have friends up here who let me keep it at their place, as it's mostly poles and fabric and takes up little space."

She smiled and said wistfully, "The old southern faire would let me stay in the back of my booth as it has a little space for a cot and a suitcase. The new owners scotched that idea and that was why I brought it up here, that and Warren had moved up here too."

She grinned and said gaily, "And now I'm really glad I came up here!"

She looked around the dining room, her eyes twinkling in her happiness as she said,"I got to meet all of you and visit this amazing place!"

Warren grinned impishly and said, "Aren't you glad I talked you into staying here?"

"More than you can imagine!" replied Yanna.

Yanna turned her attention towards Freya and she asked,"And what is it that you do, when you're not at faire?"

Freya finished her bit of food and replied,"Ah'm a student at Portland University whaur Ah'm majorin' in library science."

She grinned, "Reit noo, Ah'm enjoyin' me summer afore Ah gae oop north tae visit me fowks."

Yanna grinned, "I remember my college days quite fondly, I majored in art and learned quite a bit about love!"

She smiled slightly and murmured, "I haven't thought of him in a long time, he's probably a grandfather by now, he wanted kids and I didn't, so we went our separate ways."

Freya's remark about their upcoming trip at breakfast, got Roger to thinking about the upcoming trip and reminded him of the need to check on his ammunition supply, when was the last time he'd looked that over?

Freya's family had come to expect him to bring his granddad's old Marlin Rifle so he could supplement their larder with fresh meats for the cavernous smoker they had access to.

With that in mind, he toddled down the hall to the hall closet where he kept his firearms under lock and key.

It was while going through his shooting gear that Roger realized he was nearly out of ammunition for his granddad's old Marlin rifle.

At best he had about ten rounds left and a lot of empties waiting to be cleaned resized and reloaded.

Muttering to himself, he went into his shop and dug out the sturdy wooden box his granddad's loading tools were kept in.

Inside the stout box were a set of resizing dies and the simple loading press they went to.

There was also a case tumbler, a bag of crushed walnut shells and a bottle of case cleaning solution.

Setting up the loading press and getting out the small tin of case lube, Roger lubed, sized and decapped the nearly two hundred empty cases he had.

Tossing the cases into the tumbler, he added the walnut shell media, the cleaning solution and flipped on the switch.

With the tumbler faintly humming as it vibrated merrily, Roger got out his dwindling stock of primers and shook his can of gun powder experimentally.

He would need more of both items.

Bullets he had, his granddad had stocked up on the 400 grain flat nose bullets his old Marlin liked and Roger had inherited them along with the old Marlin.

Leaving the tumbler whirring away, he locked up and hopped into his miniature Japanese truck.

A few minutes later Roger parked outside a shop that sold reloading equipment and ammunition components as a part of its offerings.

Strolling up to the counter Roger smiled at the older man behind the counter and said, "Good afternoon! I need some large rifle primers and two pounds of IMR 3031 powder."

The older man squinted at him and replied,"We have Federal two tens in stock and the powder is forty bucks a pound."

Roger merely shrugged and remarked, "I'll take two pounds of powder and two hundred primers."

"How you fixed for bullets?"

"I've still got a coupla hundred of the ones that came with my granddad's rifle."

"What kinda rifle did he have?"

"It's a Marlin 1895 in .45-90 Winchester, he used it when he was up in Alaska. Shot a few Kodiak bears with it."

The older man smiled and said, "Sounds like an old meat gun that earned its keep!"

Roger grinned, "It still does, every time I go up to Canada I take it with me and bag either an elk or a moose, occasionally a big deer will show up and I'll add it to my friend's smoke house."

The older man grinned and said, "Don't let the mounties catch you doing that, they 'll hang you by your nuts!"

Roger smiled and replied, "No worries there, my friends are Jotuns and they ask me to bag them a couple of elk or something while I'm visiting. Since they're considered a 'first nations' people, they're left pretty much alone."

"Lucky you!" remarked the older man as he fetched the items Roger had requested and placed them on the glass topped counter.

Roger smiled and took out his plastic money card.

Once he'd paid for his items, the older man bagged everything up and asked, "How does that old .45-90 do on elk and moose?"

Roger smiled and replied, "I use a 400 grain flat nose bullet driven to about 2,000 feet per second, it knocks the stuffings out of whatever I shoot with it. Since I always get real close before I shoot, one shot is usually all I need."

The older man looked thoughtful for a moment and said, "If I recall aright, .45-90's used a slower rifling twist for the 300 grain bullets and a 400 grain bullet might be a bit long for that cartridge."

Roger replied, "According to the little note book that came with the rifle, it started out as a .45-70. Grampa felt it needed a bit more oomph and had it rechambered to .45-90 to spice things up a bit. He worked up a load that he liked and stuck with it, it shoots about three inches high at 100 yards and is right on at about 250 yards. Since it only has iron sights on it, I make sure to get real close before squeezing the trigger."

The older man grinned again and said, "That's the way it should be, so many hunters nowadays have scopes and rely on shooting at a longer range instead of using stalking skills."

Roger shrugged and said, "That's what I was taught by my granddad."Get as close as you can, then get ten yards closer!" he always said."

The older man chuckled at his reply and waved good bye as he left the small shop.

Reentering his shop, Roger shut off the tumbler and looked over the gleaming brass casings jumbled up in the walnut shell media, they looked real nice now.

Getting out the old time priming tool, Roger reprimed the nearly two hundred empty brass casings and placed them in the reloading trays.

Next he set up the venerable Lyman powder measure and scale before he poured about half the powder he already had on hand into the hopper.

Consulting his granddad's little notebook, he set up the scale to weigh the charges as they came out of the powder measure, then he adjusted the powder measure to drop the recommended powder charge for the powder he was using.

Once everything was in order, he began methodically dispensing gunpowder, placing a bullet atop the freshly charged case, seating it and crimping the case neck slightly before taking a moment to look over the newly loaded round and placing it in the cartridge box his granddad had made.

When he was finished, Roger made note of how many times the brass had been reloaded, what powder, primers and bullets he had used and the date it was reloaded. He returned any unused powder back to its can, closed up the primer packages and returned the rest of the bullets to their box.

Looking into the box he mused, granddad had stocked up on these bullets around the time he was born.

1,000 400 grain flat nose bullets he'd ordered, now there was a few hundred of them left.

At the rate he was going Roger thought to himself, he'd be quite an old man by the time he needed to look into getting more of these bullets.

Putting everything away, he took up the freshly loaded ammunition, closed up his shop and toddled up to the house.

As he walked, he heard the faint whirring of lacy insect wings and felt tiny April settle onto his shoulder.

"Choclit?" chirruped the tiny sprite child as she rode upon his shoulder.

Roger smiled and replied regretfully, "Sorry little one, I don't have any with me, but if you'll bear with me, I'll give you some once we get to the house, okay?"

"Hokay!" chirped the girl and she sat down on his shoulder to enjoy the ride.

"That's my girl!" chuckled Roger as he strolled towards the looming house once built for a couple of giants, now lived in by a couple of humans, a frost giantess, a wood wife, several giant wolves, a fat salamander sleeping in the front parlour's fireplace, a tittering of sprites and all were watched over by a silky who ran the house quite smoothly.

It was a comfortable home filled with love and at times had hosted fae royalty, human friends and numerous supernatural beings over the years.

It was now a nexus between the worlds of humanity and the many unseen neighbors who lived in humanity's shadow.

Once inside the house Roger put the box of reloaded ammunition in the lockable closet where he kept his few guns.

Being ex-military, Roger had little interest in accumulating a number of weapons, he'd seen what they could do and still had nightmares now and then.

Fortunately, the comforting presences of Freya and Dena, kept the nightmares at bay.

"Choclit?" chirped his tiny companion and Roger chuckled as he went into his cluttered study where he kept a small wooden container full of chocolate morsels, the kind sprites loved.

Taking off the lid, Roger held the container out for April's convenience.

With a faint whirring of lacy wings, she hovered over the container for a few moments before selecting three of the chocolate morsels.

With her 'choclit' in hand, April rose up and came closer so she could leave a tiny wet spot on his cheek from her kiss.

She beamed and chirped "Thank you!" before she flew over to a nearby book case with a little nook for her to sit in.

Having acquired her 'choclit', April settled down to nosh while Roger wrote down his notes and observations about the day's events.

He would visit the shooting range the next day to check on his loads.

That evening while everyone was enjoying Silky's efforts at exploring Mexican cuisine, Freya asked Roger, "Did ye get a look at yoor rifle's ammunition? Ah recall it was runnin' low."

Swallowing his bite of food, Roger replied, "Yes, I was down to eight cartridges. I got out grandad's loading tools and reloaded all the empties I had, there's enough now that I needn't fret about ammunition for that old rifle until I'm quite elderly."

He paused and added, "I'm going out to the range tomorrow, to see how it shoots with fresh ammunition. It should be just fine, but I still want to bang off a few shots just for giggles."

"How much ammunition does it have now?"

"Two hundred rounds, pretty much a lifetime supply for hunting purposes."

Flora asked, "Is it for that old rifle of your grandfather's, the one you always take to Canada when you go?"

"Yes, it is. I just used the same loading data he used when I put the reloads together, no sense in fooling around with a proven formula when it works so well."

Flora's next question caught him by surprise.

"May I come with you to the shooting range when you go?"

Roger nearly spluttered at her request and after recovering his wits he asked,"Are you really sure you want to go? It's a surety none of the shooters there will have ever seen anyone like you before, we'll have to disguise you somehow, especially your horns and ears!"

Flora grinned and said cheerfully, "I'll wear a long skirt and have boots to hide my feet and I can wrap a scarf over my horns and ears."

Roger chuckled and remarked, "You'll also need some sort of bustle to hide that tail of yours."

Flora replied coyly, "I can wear my hoop skirt with a bustle, they'll never notice it!"

"Why not go for the whole nineteenth century cutie look, the rifle is kinda from that era."

She grinned, "Does that mean if I can put that look together, I can go?"

Roger merely smiled at her remark and said, "Clever girl! We leave at nine A.M. Don't be late!"

Freya merely rolled her eyes at their exchange.

The next morning with a good breakfast and a fortifying cup of coffee safely inside them, Roger and Flora drove to the Tri County Gun Club.

She was dressed in a long skirt with a small bustle to hide her deerlike legs and tail, a long sleeved blouse with a light jacket over it and on her head an elaborate hat that helped conceal her horns and deerlike ears.

Her cloven hooved feet were safely hidden by a special pair of boots made especially for her by Native Earth.

Tinted glasses concealed her eyes as well.

They arrived about ten A.M. And after Roger paid the range fees for himself and a guest, they drove to the general purpose range to set up.

While the others were firing their rifles, Roger laid out a piece of carpet and set up his rifle on a couple of sand bags before sitting down to wait for a break in the firing.

The rangemaster came by and after glancing at Flora seated demurely behind the firing line, looked his old rifle over for a few moments before asking, "Where did you get this?"

"It was my granddad's, he used it when he was up in Alaska. I use it when I go to Canada and hunt moose or elk."

Peering at the caliber markings, the rangemaster commented, "Forty five ninety huh, I'll bet it really clobbers them!"

Roger chuckled and replied, "I rarely need more that one shot to do the job. A 400 grain soft nose at just over 2,000 feet per second packs quite a punch!"

"I'll bet!" replied the rangemaster just before he sounded the cease fire alarm and called out, "Cease fire, cease fire! Clear your weapons and step back behind the white line!"

Moments later he strode along the firing line to verify that all weapons were cleared while the shooters stood behind the white line.

Satisfied that everyone was in compliance he called out, "If you have a target to set in place, do so now! Walk quickly, do not run!"

Roger strode quickly to the 50 yard mark and placed his target firmly before returning to his place.

Once the other shooters had either checked their targets or replaced them and had returned to their places.

The rangemaster looked everyone over, sounded the alarm and declared, "Commence firing! Commence firing!"

Soon the range resounded with the popping and banging of the various caliber rifles being fired.

Taking his seat, Roger took up his grandfather's old Marlin, took aim and fired his first shot.

Satisfied with the feeling of the old rifle's authorative kick, he fired several more shots, then peered through his granddad's spotting scope to gauge his shooting.

He smiled at the grouping he saw, all five shots could be covered by a poker chip with room to spare.

In reloading his old rifle, Roger slipped five more cartridges through the loading port and took aim at the next target.

Five shots later he peered through his old spotting scope and smiled, like the first grouping his second grouping was of a similar size and any game animal at that range was a sure thing.

Loading the rifle one more time he stood up and beckoned to Flora, "Wanna give it a go?" he asked.

She broke into a dazzling smile and sat down at the shooting bench.

Roger pointed out the target that was hers and said, "Remember what I said about sight picture and breath control?"

Flora smiled and nodded, he grinned and said, "It's all yours!"

Standing just behind her, he watched while she coolly levered a cartridge into the chamber, took aim and fired.

Quickly working the lever, she ejected the now empty cartridge and levered in a second round, paused a brief moment and fired once again.

Grinning like a kid, Flora repeated her earlier performance until she had emptied the rifle's five shot magazine.

Peeking at her grouping through the spotting scope, Roger chuckled and said cheerfully, "Remind me not to piss you off if you have access to this rifle!"

Flora beamed at his remark about her shooting and when he asked her about the kick she shrugged and replied,"It's no worse than your Ithaca shotgun."

He smiled and remarked, "In the game fields you won't even notice the kick, it's just you and the animal. You're so focussed on making the shot that the kick no longer matters."

He grinned, "I never fire more than a few shots when I'm up in Canada, what I loaded up yesterday will last for decades."

During the next cease fire, Roger retrieved his target, all six of the bull's eyes had been shot full of holes. His loads were consistent, his shooting skills passable for hunting large game.

The two of them spent the next shooting session firing at the spring loaded targets at the 100 yard mark.

Flora grinned as she knocked over the target and laughed when it popped right back up for more punishment.

"Sadistic little buggers aren't they?" she commented only to smirk when Roger said drily, "They are targets, it's their fate to get hit a lot. Tomorrow, it'll be someone else tormenting them."

After the last of the fifty rounds Roger had brought was fired downrange, they cleaned up their shooting area, returned the target frame and thanked the rangemaster, he grinned at them and said, "It is I, who should be thanking you for bringing a touch of glamour and sophistication to our range today Miss Flora Oakenwood, Roger Tate."

He leaned a bit closer and murmured, "I like the way you covered up your hooves and horns so well!"

While Flora flushed at being discovered Roger smiled and remarked, "Who else besides you noticed?"

The rangemaster smiled, "Just me, in a former life I was a naturalist, I hiked all over the Pacific Northwest counting dropped antlers, owl pellets and hoof prints among the other things I saw. I tend to notice things like a pair of unusual boots meant to cover cloven hooves and a headscarf meant to cover horns and deerlike ears. Not to worry dear, your secret is safe with me."

Roger grinned at the mature gentleman and handed him a card with the words, "That's where we live, our house always welcomes kindly people who wish to learn more about what we do."

The man glanced at the card and said,"Wolf Hills Manor, eh? I've heard of the place and the giant wolves that live there. I'm told those big wolves make the best nannies for small kids."

Roger smiled at his comments and said,"Seeing a front yard full of small kids and their dogs, playing under the watchful eye of a mama wolf is fairly common in our neighborhood. Only a fool would mess with those under her care."

The man chuckled and remarked, "And animal control is okay with that?"

Roger grinned and replied,"Our wolves have friends in high places it seems."

Two weeks later, Roger found himself at Portland's International airport waiting for the newly arrived flight from Europe to disgorge its passengers.

Standing alongside him was Sheila Ericcson in all her towering glory.

At six foot six inches tall, she was taller than most people and with her athletic physique and hybrid nature, stronger than any other human

Naturally, she was dressed to catch the eye to which Roger muttered, "Not one for incognito are you?"

Sheila merely grinned at his mutterings and retorted, "Look who's talking, Freya stands out waaay more than I do and you two are often seen together."

He couldn't argue, Freya at full growth stood at least three feet taller than the average human and with her fair skin, red-gold hair kept in long braids and splendid athletic figure, she was a beauty to behold.

Norse Goddess looks was the term most often used to describe her appearance, despite her definite opinions on the subject of Norse mythology.

Over the P.A. System they heard, "Flight 492 from Templehof is now discharging its passengers at gate 25."

Moments later, the first of the passengers from flight 492 came out of the jetway , through the gateway and into the arms of waiting family or friends.

Sheila murmured, "Heads up!"

Roger merely nodded, he was an old hand at waiting in airports for someone to arrive.

The incoming rush of bodies had slowed to a trickle and both of them started wondering if Alexandra was even on the flight when she appeared, trundling her carry on luggage behind her.

On her face was a big grin, her yellowish eyes twinkling in merriment.

Even wearing casual clothing she had the aspect of a highly trained athlete about her.

Her choice of wearing yoga pants, cross trainers and a snug fitting top did little to conceal her taut body's level of fitness.

Greeting the two of them with hugs and kisses, she said, "Lemme fetch my hold baggage before I hit customs!"

The trio entered the baggage pick up area and watched the various bags emerging from the handler's cart to begin circulating on the carousel.

After a bit, a sturdy military looking suitcase emerged and began its trek around the carousel, on it was stencilled a logo declaring it to being connected to a Romanian security company called Beowulf.

Alexandra grinned as she snagged the formidable piece of luggage and said, "Welp, customs here I come!"

As she started towards the customs agents, she said over her shoulder, "Wait outside for me!"

Roger and Sheila left the baggage pick up area and found a place to relax while Alexandra dealt with U.S. Customs.

They found a coffee bar, ordered coffee and a nibbly and made themselves comfortable.

Taking their seats Sheila remarked, "I wonder how long she'll be getting through customs?"

Roger merely shrugged and remarked, "That entirely depends on what she may have brought with her, equipment wise. No equipment, no problem, lots of equipment, problem."

"That 'functional looking' case of hers, is going to attract attention and will get looked into."

Sheila smiled and remarked,"They always open my swordcase and wonder what I'm doing with one that size, in this day and age!"

Roger laughed and said, "I've wondered about that, then again I have my granddads old rifle with me when I go to Canada on a commercial flight."

Sheila rolled her silvery gray eyes and retorted, "When was the last time you even set foot on a commercial airliner?"

Roger smirked and replied,"It has been a while, but if I did take a commercial flight and had his old rifle with me, it would get opened and inspected!"

He grinned at her and asked, "Just what, do you tell them when they see your sword?"

"I usually give them some flannel about my being a stunt person in a fantasy barbarian type movie. Having a fake movie script in the case also helps my cover story!"

"That, and your looking like someone out of a fantasy barbarian type movie does help your case!"

"You mean the towering blonde shield maiden look?"

"That too!"

Roger was still chuckling over their exchange of remarks when Alexandra rolled up with her luggage in tow and said, "All finished, let's get out of here!"

As they started leaving the air terminal Roger said, "That was quick! I figured you'd be getting quite the going over if you'd brought any party favors with you."

"Not this time. I'm on vacation, not working, no bag of tricks this time."

"Gotcha!"

"So where's Freya? You two are usually together from what I recall."

"She's in class until this afternoon."

"She's in summer school?"

Roger smiled and remarked, "It's an accelerated learning program she's in. They cram two semester's worth of schooling into one."

"What subject is she taking?"

"Library science."

"Ah, okay."

Roger grinned and held out a key fob while pressing a button.

The tall white van's doors opened as they approached and Roger said cheerfully, "Our chariot, is ready!"

Entering the van, there was a moment taken to engage seatbelts and settle in, then the van was started up and they left the airport for home.

"Have there been any additions to the family since I was here last?" Asked the young werewolf bodyguard.

Roger chuckled and replied, "We now have a menehune married into Dena's family."

"A menehune?"

"A Hawai'ian version of a woodwife, I met her during a trip across the Pacific. She joined us and came home with us and just recently, she got married to one of Dena's many grandsons, or is it great grandsons? We're not sure which!"

Alexandra pondered his reply then asked, "Any other additions?"

"You remember Warren?" asked Roger, "Well, he is now living with his own wood wife companion. A girl named Helga Greenwood. Yes, she is related to Dena and is one of her granddaughters."

"Anything else?"

"We now have a small Inari shrine dedicated to a black fox kitsune, which is a type of youkai I met during our travels last year."

"Yes, the torii gates do work if one knows how to use them." he said with a grin.

There was a moment of silence then Alexandra asked, "Have they been used, and by whom, or should I ask, what?"

Roger chuckled and replied, "Thus far, we have only had visitations from Kuroshima a black fox kitsune and Kurona, a bakeneko which is a youkai cat with twin I do expect it will get livelier during the Obon season."

"How so?"

"Inside the shrine are two small inari statues that were gifted to me by the nine-tailed white fox of Hokkaido, Japan. I imagine she'll wish to see what I did with them, and during Obon would be the perfect time for her to visit."

"So, this Obon is..."

"It can be thought of as a Hallowe'en, or a Dia de los Muertos, only it is celebrated mostly during summer instead of the fall."

"Ah, okay"

Roger pulled the tall van into the semi-circular driveway and parked.

"We are here!" he declared and shut the van off.

With luggage in tow, Roger opened the front door and was nearly bowled over by the giant wolvies wanting to greet Alexandra Wolf.

They quickly surrounded her as they gave her the once over, to refresh their memories of her scent.

She laughed and dug her strong fingers into their deep fur, to give each one of them a good scratching.

They in turn, shlurped her and rubbed their massive furred bodies against her, welcoming her home again.

Axel, being male was particularly attentive, to Alexandra's dismay and Anita's mild

amusement.

Meanwhile, her luggage was taken up to the room she would be staying in during her vacation.

Once she could get away from the attentions of the gigantic wolves, she made her way into the front parlour to pay her respects to Anna Karlsen, who she knew as Anastasia Karloff and addressed as 'Lady Anastasia' when she presented herself to the vampire author.

Straightening up from her curtsy, Alexandra smiled at Anna and said,"I hadn't expected you to be here as well, Lady Anastasia, what a pleasant surprise to see you."

Anna smiled at her and replied, "When Sheila told me she was coming up here, I hitched a ride!"

She grinned at the young werewolf body guard and said cheerfully,"I'll be mostly working on my writing in peace and quiet, with no unwanted visitors to bother me."

The next morning around 6 A.M., Alexandra and Sheila were already up and out training.

Their day began with a run of several miles and a series of strenuous exercises mostly conducted in the woodsier portion of the property.

That way, Alexandra could shift into her wolf form without anyone noticing and the two could push the limits of Alexandra's endurance under stress.

Then came the hand to hand combat training, Sheila Ericcson style.

Sheila, being a former claymore warrior had centuries of combat experience and knew countless ways of dealing with armed and unarmed opponents, human and otherwise.

Alexandra's rigorous training would last for her entire vacation, at her insistence.

She was there to learn how to better serve her queen, her Majesty Henrietta-Maria.

Queen of the hidden realm.

30