A/N - This chapter parallels the Origin of the Pixies chapter "Fruitful Fruition"

(Posted December 18, 2018)

Loopy Loopy

In which Julius accidentally stumbles across the greatest loophole ever encountered in the history of Anti-Fairies in the Autumn of the Red Petals

I leaned against my desk, chin resting on my folded arms. My tail whisked back and forth in a discontent state. The sperm vial and egg canister both hovered before me, between my stacks of parchment and well-worn quills. Floating, suspended, in their little bubble of cold magic.

Sperm. Eggs. Sperm. Eggs.

"Kkh." I rubbed the heel of my hand against my eye, pushing it up into my bangs. Then I yawned. "Bloody Darkness, what time is it? I swear I must have run calculations all night…"

Logic warned me bringing a child into this world to raise as my own while not even a legal adult myself was a larger burden than I could tackle at this time. Emotion pointed out I may not have much time before the cherubs discovered what I planned to do.

Leaning my cheek in my hand, I drew one claw across the surface of the magic bubble. Forward. Back. Forward. Back. Around in around, in spirals and vines. I exhaled in silence.

What if this was the only chance I ever had? What if Dm. Venus reclaimed what I'd stolen? Then what? Was I meant to live helpless and desperate forever? I groaned and wrinkled my hair in my claws. Making decisive calls was physical pain, and I wished I was married to someone who would make them all for me. Already I'd gone back and forth for two consecutive nights, weighing cons and inventing pros. To create a child, or to hold out for hope?

It's your fate. It's decided.

My hands clenched into fists against the desk. I bowed my head. My tail whipped a little faster. When opportunity crosses one's path, opportunity should be taken. That was the Anti-Fairy way. Faced with the choice before me, to indulge myself now while I had the chance, is what any Anti-Fairy in the universe would do.

Yet I hesitated. Why?

Tearing myself from the table, I clasped my hands behind my back and began to circle my study on wing. This was wrong, all of it. All so wrong. Opportunity had not crossed my path- this was not my natural destiny. Stumbling across Ilisa's long-preserved sperm, yes, well… Perhaps that was fated. But returning to claim Juandissimo's eggs after I'd already turned my back… that was a choice. An attempt to seize more than my fair share of fate. I'd broken sacred Anti-Fairy law, and someday soon, I would have to be punished for it. Tarrow only bestows upon us a certain quantity of luck each lifetime. Those who abuse the rules should never take the reins of destiny upon themselves.

It's your fate. It's decided.

I halted my pacing and whipped my head around, glaring at the bubble above my desk. It's glimmering taunted me, forcing my gnashing teeth to clench. With a muffled whimper, I flew back to it. I wrapped the bubble in my hands and clung on, pressing my cheek and knees all around its surface and restraining it with tender care. "Oh, my darling, how I adore you! Such a tragedy is this, to be so close and yet intended to stand apart for a season more. Child, I long to cradle you. To caress your soft head with my hand, to kiss your tiny claws with my tender lips… Alas, I cannot!"

I squeezed the bubble tighter, until it squished into an oval. "At least, not yet! For a fae child is one conceived of both physical and magical means. Sperm and egg are nothing without proper fertilization. But who shall offer the yellow magic to bring you to life? Why, an Anti-Fairy can contribute such a thing, for our magic is shared with that of our hosts, but I beseech you, lend your unborn ears to a broken man's bitter quandary!" Rubbing my cheek against the bubble, I glared into the corner of my room. "Alas, while my physical body is growing strong and quick, I have yet to enter the more magical side of puberty, and cannot yet produce the energy frequency you require to form life. If I should hold out for adulthood until I can, my secret theft may be discovered and you torn apart from me. But if I act now, you shall not be wholly mine. Magic carries no genetics, but it is the principle of the thing which constrains my hand- you understand that, don't you, dear pet? Oh, what is a longing father to do? What does he do, my dear? It's too much- too much, I say!"

A sudden strong tapping sounded on the wall beside my study door. "Julius?" That was Anti-Elina. "Dr. Whimsifinado is here to see you."

I squeaked and jerked back from the bubble. It floated above my head, out of reach. I glanced up at it, bobbing there against the ceiling, then at the door. My chest shook. Was Ambrosine outside right now? Could he sense my movements from the corridor? If I went for the bubble, it would only make him suspicious. What if he began investigating? What if he made a report of what he found? No, no… better to leave the bubble where it was, surely… floating silently up there beside the coats thrown over my roosting bar. Perhaps he wouldn't notice it.

Stubbornly, I wiped my fist across my mouth, smoothed my shirt, and then opened the door to find my High Countess and therapist waiting for me. Ambrosine wore a ridiculously blinding shade of tomato red today, his salt and pepper hair primly combed apart from the pencil-thin swirl curling up as it always did from the back. I took one look at him, and broke down in sobs.

"You were right! I am a Fairy in an Anti-Fairy's body. It's all true!"

Ambrosine reached into his vest pocket and withdrew a clean handkerchief. He offered it to me in a borderline smug sort of way. "Why don't you sit down?"

Oh, it would have been more natural for me to roost upside-down. But I didn't want Ambrosine studying the contents of my magic bubble long enough to realise what they were. At least if I was down here, his eyes were less likely to stray. I sat in my desk chair and held my knees stiffly. Ambrosine took Mona's armchair. Anti-Elina bid us both farewell and shut my study door.

"It's been some time since you've come to see me, Julius," Ambrosine said, holding his clasped hands on the notebook in his lap.

"Yes, yes… Thank you for the bottled pheromones; I'm certain they've been working wonderfully." I rubbed my arms up and down. "Ambrosine, please. I need you to help me sort out my feelings about this mess. I'm a reincarnation of a Fairy. I know I am. I have some of her memories."

Ambrosine paused. He put his head to one side. I recognised in an instant that he didn't believe me, but instead of saying so outright, he simply said, "You're not the first Anti-Fairy who's spoken to me about reincarnation, and you're not the first one who's come to me with questions regarding gender. Would you care to lead this conversation?"

"Anti-Fairies are supposed to be reincarnations of their ancestors who were born in the same year of the zodiac. That's what we're taught. Upon death, our souls can choose to hold out for the chance to be an Anti-Fairy in our year again, or we can be reborn as an animal or aspect of nature instead, if that is the will of the spirits. I'm the son of a concubine and a castle servant. None of my Water year ancestors cared to reincarnate as me, for all wished to hold out for a better option. So a Fairy who held Zodii beliefs appealed to them, asking if she might have my life as her own. Her first life had been one in a million and it hadn't always been pretty, so the nature spirits allowed it. That's how it happened."

"How do you feel this changes things for you?"

I traced an exhausted palm up my face. Slowly, I sank down into the soft padding of my chair. "How doesn't it? Gods, Ambrosine. All my friends know which of their ancestors reincarnated into them. For smoke's sake, Ashley is his own mother. And they're all Anti-Fairies. Having been a Fairy in my past life means I can't relate to them when they share stories. And they're going to find out about this eventually. Either that, or they'll assume I'm a ding-dong for not being able to figure out whom I 'actually' used to be, and they'll taunt me for that instead. I suppose I could make somebody up, but I'll really be in for it if one of my relatives ends up reincarnating as them too. I just don't know what to do."

Ambrosine nodded and traced his hand across his blank notebook page. He glanced down and began to write something. "Reincarnation is a very interesting subject. Do you know much about the person you believe yourself to have been in your past life? Perhaps a name?"

I inhaled, then blew the air out again. My hand fell to my lap. "Ilisa Maddington."

The energy field turned immediately frozen. Ambrosine dropped his quill on his book, his jaw slackening, eyes enormous.

He didn't believe me. My temper began to bubble in my cheeks and in my chest. I struggled to hold back any bitter words I might regret, but instead I snapped, "I remember the day you came in! You were my last one for the night. Powder blue vest. I was holding a clipboard with your name on it, and I tossed my head and laughed about how the lot of you shouldn't let your jaws flap too much despite the fact that their empress had arrived. I called you in and sent the rest of the hopefuls home. You brought me Earth flowers; I had you drop them on the dresser with all the others. You spent an awfully long time in my bath and didn't even bother to shave your legs. I remember being annoyed about that."

Ambrosine's fingers clenched into his notebook as I needled him. Try as he might, he couldn't keep his wings still. Nonetheless, his tone remained steady. "That could be anyone. Perhaps you've read too many first-person accounts of Ilisa's history."

"'Save your breath, butterbatch. You'll be needing it in a sec.' Ha! I remember now. I was the first damsel you ever kissed. 'Aw, jeepers, Dm. Maddington.' That's what you said to me. That's what you said!" My knees clenched together. I wrapped my hands around them, digging in my claws. "You asked to braid my hair. I told you no."

"Everyone knows I have a thing when it comes to hair," he muttered.

"Your mother had a saucerbee tournament that day."

"Wrong. My mother retired from saucerbee when I was just a few decades old."

"Wait," I said, snatching desperately at the threads of memory. "Your mother… was watching a saucerbee game that day. A small one, for children. You have two younger siblings, a sister and a brother. Ara and Alik. Your father caught you while you were leaving the Nest the next morning and flipped his lid. Oh gods, don't get me started on your father." I rolled my eyes. "When the Eroses distributed tickets allowing drakes to spend a night with me, Praxis bought up dozens of them and would return to me every night he could get away, telling stories of how his blind wife was too clueless to know. Disgusting old man. The creep of the crop. Poor Nettle Gumswood. Alik isn't Nettle's; did you know that? The lad just didn't inherit my wings. Imagine that: a noble fairy with a half-brother. Where is your precious lifetime monogamy now?" I shook my head and picked my claw at a loose thread in my chair. "My job was to be a breeder, so honey contraceptives were forbidden, of course. Considering how often Praxis came around, it was only a matter of time before it happened. Never let it be said I'm shy about giving my all. I believe the pregnancy happened the third time he paid me a visit, although it didn't stop him from coming back for more."

"That's enough."

I fell silent, glaring at him with sour expectations. Ambrosine refused to look at me. Instead, he stared down at the notebook in his lap. His wings were shaking. I could hear the sweat droplets dribbling through his hair.

"Those… aren't your memories. Anti-Fairies have the power to mind-meld. You have no connection to Ilisa Maddington. You picked those memories up from my brain. It's lies. All of it. My father loved my mother. A lot. A lot… He wasn't a good man in many respects, but he did love my mother, at least…"

I crossed one of my legs over the other and leaned back, folding my arms behind my head. "Ambrosine, I assure you, this is entirely real. I'm Ilisa Maddington reborn. While I can't recall all her memories at will, some of them are stronger than others when I'm around stimuli that recall them. Like you, for example. I remember you vividly."

"Why now and not before, when you were under a decade old?" he asked accusingly.

"I… I don't know. Perhaps it's because… I better know my past now? My eight-year-old self wasn't ready to handle such things. The Ilisa side of me…" My gaze dropped. "Yes. I remember. She… I kept some things guarded from myself. On purpose. Suppressed. It's… difficult to explain to someone who isn't an Anti-Fairy and doesn't want to believe, but… Ilisa and I, we're a single entity. There isn't a different 'she' and 'he' in my head, as we share the same soul. I, Julius Anti-Cosmo Anti-Lunifly, am what resulted from me, Ilisa Maddington, growing up in a certain set of circumstances. And I… am keeping some things from myself until I'm older." I shifted my wings. "In fact, I think I really meant to keep all of this from myself until I was older. It just so happened that when I visited the Eros Nest, the memories became too strong, and slipped through my defenses. Some are still suppressed, because I know myself well enough to know I can't handle everything just yet. Oh gods, it's going to absolutely destroy me when those buried memories come trickling in…" I hiccuped accidentally and pulled my knees up to my chest. "I don't need to know all that. Ohh, why do I say things I myself would hate to hear? Why can't I keep my thoughts innocent and clean? Oh gods, oh gods, no one wanted to know that! Why am I like this? Why did I say that thing I said when I was eight? No one needed that…"

Ambrosine shook his head. He tapped one finger. Tap. Tap. "Julius, I'm going to do something that I should have done long ago. I hope that you can find it within you to forgive me for this delay someday."

My ears flicked back to attention. This couldn't possibly end well. "Oh?"

"I have decided… that I am not the best person to offer you care and support. So if you're willing, I would like to refer you to someone who might better understand your situation and help you more than I can."

My face burst into cold. "Are you serious?" I shrieked, jumping to my feet. My hand went for my empty wand sheath. "Now of all times? As soon as I accept that I used to be a Fairy, you throw me out like this?"

"I'm not throwing you out," Ambrosine reassured me with his constant low-voiced patience. He hadn't even flinched at my outburst, and even now held my gaze. "I only want for you to receive the best possible care you can. I've finally realised that when it comes to treating you, I am out of my league."

"You wanted me to accept that I'm a Fairy in an Anti-Fairy's body!"

"I didn't mean it like this. You're talking reincarnation. I'm not as familiar with the concept as she is." Ambrosine jotted down some information on a strip of bark and passed it over to me. I didn't know how that made me feel, watching him do that without needing to look the contact info up or double-check it in any way.

"Is she an Anti-Fairy?" I asked, not taking it.

"Of course not. She's certified. Anti-Fairies can't graduate from the Fairy Academy." He sighed. "Her name is Holly Applespark. She runs a therapy business on Plane 7. I'll get in contact with her. Please prepare yourself accordingly."

My face stung. I accepted the note, but when Ambrosine left to find the High Countess and accept due payment for his services, I sneered at it with my fangs bared. "I don't need another Fairy therapist," I grumbled, breaking the bark to splinters in my hands. I let them tumble to the floor. "I'm certain she'll only tell me the same things as you all over again."

Why… You know what? After that encounter, I decided to put away my frozen sperm and egg project for a time, and treat myself to a pleasant morning of cooling off in the special bathing chamber on the observatory side of the courtyard. The massive door wasn't locked. I didn't even need to ensure any automatic torches were properly supplied with cloth, because rather than use those, the roof of the bathing chamber was exposed to the sky. Rosy light bled down into the room. The entire room was lined with sleek black stone, every corner rounded to form a soft curve. Decorative rock walls and several luminescent red-brown plants in enormous ceramic pots ringed the in-ground bath, balancing the Water energy in the room with Soil. The pool itself lapped at my toes, shallow at this end before deepening on the other side, far away.

No one else was in there. The comforting scent of sterile chemicals permeated the entire area. I shed the ragged clothing I'd worn for three days straight now and allowed myself to slip beneath the cool water. Well, it was more of a graceless flop than a dignified dive, but you know what I mean.

For a few moments, I paddled around the pool just mumbling my insecurities aloud and finding comfort in that, until the door opened. Anti-Bryndin stopped where he floated when he saw me, and pointed his claw at the door. "Out, Julius."

"But I'm taking a flea dip," I whined, sinking into the bubbles.

Anti-Bryndin waved his wand to pull the plug for the entire pool. Water began to drain away. "Yes, and now Shamaiin is coming here. I must have the tub washed of all pesticides and refilled with nice water in case he decides we will preen. Is this okay?"

"Yes, High Count…" Regardless, I sulked my way to the water's edge. "I notice, however, that Shamaiin seems to be coming over an awful lot these days."

"And he is powerful and must be kept happy and not dead. Go now."

I heaved myself from the pool, threw on my bathrobe without bothering to fit my wings through the slits, and stormed out grumbling. Frankly, I wasn't concerned with the puddles of water I tracked all the way back to the upper juvenile roosting room.

New plan, then. I towelled off, dressed, and flew off to pay a visit to the library in Luna's Landing. I figured I may as well pick something thick that would keep me absorbed until the Purple Robe had left. I wondered if Shamaiin had brought any of his drones along this time, or come alone, and if he planned to stay for supper. The entire camarilla would be dining with him in their front dining room if so. Was it custom for his drones to remain with him, or would they eat with us? And what was their perspective on their gyne's frequent calls to the Blue Castle these days?

With drones on the brain, I searched the library for texts related to Fairy culture, and narrowed that down to gyne and drone relationships. I grabbed three scrolls, one of them bound in at least three ribbons. The librarian on duty saw me floating away from the shelf. She pointed to the smallest scroll in my hand.

"Do be careful with that one. It's the only copy our library has."

I looked down at the scroll with the three ribbons. "Really? That surprises me."

She shrugged. "As I recall, it's the transcript of an interview with a drake about his life and relationship experiences as a drone. The Fairies tried to prevent copies from spreading to our hands, but as you can see, one managed to reach us anyway."

"Really…" My attention shifted to the other scrolls in my hand. "Are these all the texts about drones you have here?"

"I think so," she said, studying the shelf. She placed a bit of her hair against her lips. "Hmm. I believe so, yes. We generally try to keep the things about Fairy culture all in one place."

I scratched behind my neck. "Do you happen to know if you have anything that discusses divus displacement disorder?"

She frowned, pressing out her lips in thought. Her foot patted the air. "I don't think I've heard of that one, but anything about disorders should be in the psychology section."

"Well, yes, but…" I clenched my hand. "I've looked. On many occasions. Divus displacement disorder is said to be a condition that causes an Anti-Fairy to exhibit traits more commonly associated with drones. Specifically, the stereotype that drones experience highly fluctuating moods and become unpredictable and dangerous when deprived of pheromones. Do you know anything about that?"

"Those poor souls. I can't even imagine." The librarian looked thoughtful, then told me she might be able to find something for me if I didn't mind waiting around. I thanked her and took a roost beneath an array modeled after a cherry tree nearby. I tucked my other two scrolls onto a shelf platform dangling beside me and unravelled the one with triple ribbons.

An interview with Cosmo Waterberry, conducted by Anti-Willow Anti-Starstep. Both their signatures were present at the top along with the date to confirm the legitimacy of the contents. Oh. Of course. The interview they'd done just before the Waterberry v. Reddinski case decision was made in Fairy Court- the one I'd skipped out on going to in order to attend the Ilisa Maddington lecture with Mickey. My intent had been to seize the transcript as soon as it reached Anti-Fairy World, but with all the busyness in my life, I suppose it slipped my mind. That happens even to Anti-Fairies, you know. Hmm… I skimmed through the greeting exchanges, pausing a few paragraphs down.

A.W. - Cosmo, the Anti-Fairies I grew up with were all kabouters. We don't have drones in our society, so we're a bit out of the loop here. Could you briefly outline what being a drone means to you, in your experience, in terms an Anti-Fairy who didn't grow up with this culture can understand?

C - I can try. To be a drone is to live by your honor code every single day, even when it seems difficult. You always give 110% in all the work you do. You're obedient, helpful, and supportive. You're the keystone that holds the lives of your loved ones together, allowing you all to function as a powerful family unit. To be a drone is to detect the pressure changes in the energy field that allow you to sync with a group and move as a swarm without bumping into each other. To be a drone is to feel fulfilled, and to understand that you have a right to that fulfillment regularly.

A.W. - It sounds like you enjoy being a drone. Had you been given the choice, would you still choose to be one?

C - I would. I think the labels and the rules about what drones aren't legally permitted to do… Those barriers, I would like to remove from society. But I would not change who I am, no.

A.W. - Even though people say drones' perceptions are limited?

C - I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything, and I don't believe that drones are inherently less intelligent or less deserving of respect than anyone else. I'm happy the way I am.

Happy the way he was? I read that section twice, my brow furrowing. Hmph. Cruel Fairy culture had poisoned the poor lad's head, that was certain. He couldn't even see how oppressive his society was.

A.W. - How would you describe your relationship with Jack Waterberry?

C - We trust each other 100%. His faith in me never wavers. He always keeps me informed about his activities and always allows me to accompany him anywhere if I choose to. I would say communication is the most crucial aspect of a gyne/drone partnership, and the constant, open communication Jack and I have is why we work so well together.

As if a gyne would allow a drone to speak up and express his true feelings. Gynes are abusive. Well, except Mickey… No, Mickey was a special case. I'm referring to other gynes.

A.W. - How would you describe preening with Jack Waterberry?

C - Jack always thinks of something I did that day that he can compliment me on when we're together. I'm pleased that he always treats me as the alpha retinue drone, always preening me before he preens the others. That's important to me, in that he recognizes that me being his alpha is a two-way path, and he doesn't go behind my back to preen one of the others. Being the alpha is important to me, in the same way being creche father or colony queen might be important in your culture. It would be disrespectful to ignore that rank distinction. Jack is very dedicated to me and I appreciate that about him.

Respectful… Dedicated… Complimentary…

A.W. - You can do better than that. Give me the juicy details! Where do you usually do the deed and what's going on around you when it happens?

C - With all respect, dame, I don't think that's appropriate.

A.W. - Aha, I'm sorry. I'm just so curious! Remember, we Anti-Fairies don't have a good point of reference for this.

C - Well. Preening is different with every gyne. My first gyne was strictly business in a way that made him difficult to connect to. He was a virgin and still learning the trade, I guess. We always preened at the same time of day, in the same way, standing in the middle of the kitchen before breakfast after we'd changed into our clothes for the day. We didn't even share a bed at night, even though I was his alpha drone and he wasn't married…

My second gyne was looser, and we would sort of do it whenever it felt right in whatever we were wearing at the time. I suppose we did it most in the mornings, still in our pajamas when we woke up, but it would happen anytime we felt like it. I'm almost embarrassed to admit it, but I met him in a club when he offered to buy me a few drinks and candy bars. We got to talking, and actually had our first preening session, you could call it, in the middle of the crowd as the band Rocketshock played "Bar of Shooting Stars" at full volume. I went home with him that night and stayed with him until he died. We didn't preen every day, but when we did, it was always highly passionate, even though I was one of four drones and wasn't even his alpha retinue. He knew how to make us all feel we were valued.

Jack and I always preen first thing after dinner, in his bed with our day clothes on. I suppose another drone might argue that the experience isn't as passionate as what I had with my second gyne, but I don't think fiery passion is everything. I enjoy the calmness of it. He's everything I'm looking for right now. I don't regret any of my previous gyne choices, because they're all part of the learning process, but I'm very happy with Jack. That's all I feel comfortable revealing.

My face simmered. How deeply ingrained was all this drone brainwashing in Fairy culture? I read on, with mounting frustration.

A.W. - There we go! That's very informative and leaves just enough to the imagination for me to have fun with it, hee hee. How would you describe what it's like to be without a gyne's pheromones?

C - Oh, dust. It feels like queasiness. You can feel it coming on, when the pheromones start to wear off. It feels like being stranded on an isolated planet without a wand and with no hope of rescue, having only a single glass of water in your hand. It feels like staring at the glass and seeing only [a centimetre] of water left inside, and your throat is incredibly dry. It feels like being stranded for weeks and having to gulp your last drops of water down in order to survive, knowing it's impossible to refill your supply until you reach some sort of outpost. You don't know where you are. You don't know how far away the nearest outpost is. You don't know if you're even going in the right direction. Every passing second is agony, not just from lacking water, but from not knowing how much longer you're going to be feeling that way before you're rescued. If you even are rescued. You might not be. Seeing your gyne come home after you've been deprived feels like watching a mounted knight crest a hill with an entire tank of deliciously cold ice water in tow. It's a refreshing energy boost and really soothes your anxiety.

Wait a minute, I thought. My fingers clenched the scroll. That's ME! That's exactly how I feel every day of my life!

I stared at Cosmo's depiction of the dry planet for a moment, then shook my head. Brainwashed… influenced by Fairy propaganda… Drones are cruelly abused by Fairies bigger and stronger than they, and they're not really happy living their submissive little lives. They can't be. I mean, they just can't be! It's wrong!

I dove on.

A.W. - How well do you think you could get by without the influence of a gyne?

C - If I really pushed myself, I think I could last 2-3 full days before my anxiety became overwhelming. If I were at home and he didn't show for days, I'd search the house for Jack's things… probably crawl into his bed for comfort and not get out until I was starving. After a few days of moping around, I'd have to leave and seek out a new gyne. As deeply as I care for Jack and would wish for his return, I wouldn't want to force myself to live in a state of stress and pain if I didn't need to.

Seek out a new… But no. Why wouldn't you just… make your own way? Drones don't need gynes… It's propaganda… a cruel tradition of prettying up slavery in a nicey-nice facade…

A.W. - It's my understanding that kabouters give off pheromones too, even if they aren't as powerful as a gyne's. How do you feel about preening with a kabouter?

C - Let me put it this way. How would you feel if all your friends were able to feast on all the fruit, meat, vegetables, and bread they wanted every single night, and the only meal you could ever eat, once or twice a day, every single day for weeks and then months on end, was a small handful of sugary candy? It might be exciting and enjoyable for awhile, but it wouldn't fulfill you.

Oh my smoke, that's me! That's exactly how it feels when I come home from school for holiday! Restless and eager to return to Fairy World! My thoughts flashed back to my self-assigned seating arrangements in class. I hadn't really noticed, but now that I thought about it… Didn't I have a tendency to sit as close to Binky Abdul as I could? I mean, he took good notes and it's very easy to sneak glances at his paper, so that's why I stay near him… and wait for him outside the washroom… and follow him wherever he goes for lunch that day… and write his name over and over in the margins of my scrolls… and snuggle in his lap at game night just to inhale the scent of bananas and toffee off his shirt… Oh my gods.

I pressed a knuckle to my teeth, flattening my ears. But- that's different! Gyne/drone relationships are abusive! My relationship with Binky is different. It's barely worth mentioning- not more than I mention any other casual relationship up on school grounds. We're just friends! Stupidly amazing really good friends…

… Is that what it's like?

The interview went on in that manner, with Anti-Willow asking Cosmo increasingly intimate questions about the nature of his relationship with Jack Waterberry, until finally Cosmo retorted, You Anti-Fairies always want to talk about sex, don't you?

Well, she replied, you have to admit that such an intimate relationship without any sex or sexual desire at all is an absolutely fascinating concept. To us, it's unthinkable that two unrelated individuals of a mature age who aren't of incompatible zodiacs could become so close without going all the way at least once to know what that intimate experience would be like between the two of them. I believe I've had thirty-six long-term compatible relationships in my lifetime, and I can't imagine keeping them all thriving for long without having made that connection. It wouldn't feel like a true friendship unless I understood my friends at their most trusting, and if it wasn't offered by someone with an earlier zodiac or if I was rejected by someone with a later zodiac, I'd probably wonder what I did to offend everyone, or why they were being so closed-off with me.

We come from very different cultures, was Cosmo's calm response.

… We do, don't we?

A.W. - Do you have any closing thoughts about what the intimacy of preening means to you?

C - To me, the entire experience is one of intimacy and desire. I do not engage in sexual relations with Jack, and he does not engage in preening with his wife. I don't think Butterwing believes Jack is withholding intimacy from her any more than I think he's withholding it from me. We desire different pleasures. When I preen with Jack, I can feel without any doubt that he wants me as much as I want him. I imagine the same is true when it comes to having relations with his wife. So, I don't believe that the intimacy involved in preening is inferior to the intimacy involved in a romantic or sexual relationship. I believe any experience that two partners consider intimate is just as important as any other intimate relationship two people can have.

… No wonder the Fairies hadn't wanted Anti-Willow to distribute this publicly. Not only did it feature a drone's humble perspective, but an Anti-Fairy's as well. And most especially, they acted as though they didn't mind being in one another's presence and holding a casual conversation, even when their cultural viewpoints clashed. This interview transcript depicted Seelie and Unseelie Courters as people able to respectfully get along.

I read it twice over to ensure I committed it perfectly to memory, then sighed and rolled it up again. Cosmo Waterberry's perspective was interesting, but I didn't even know how I felt about it. After all, I went for weeks, months, years, and centuries without being exposed to gyne pheromones, and look at how well I was holding up! I couldn't even imagine living a drone's life, kissing up on a constant basis, subject to switching partners on a whim. Why, even when I'd met gynes face to face, I wasn't normally one to forget my life and my needs and throw myself completely at their feet- or their necks. Because… that's how drones react, isn't it? I mean, that's the stereotype…

Cosmo Waterberry might seem content with his lot in life, but I didn't want to be some homemaker, or some nanny raising someone else's seven offspring while my children were left alone. I wanted a more equal marriage side by side with Mona, raising pups of my very own. All right. So perhaps I did have a few slight ups and downs in my moods every now and again. That didn't mean Ambrosine's five-second diagnosis of me when I was eight years old was necessarily accurate. He barely knew me, even now. He didn't get to determine my destiny.

I read the other scrolls, which contained nothing worth noting, then returned them all to the front desk and asked the librarian, "Did you find anything about divus displacement disorder, perchance?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I scryed every library in Anti-Fairy World, but no one could tell me anything about it."

"I see. Thank you very much for your time."

"Sorry. I'm glad I could try to help, but frankly, I don't believe it's even a real thing."

Sigh. As I was leaving the library, I noticed a scroll pinned to the public message board by the door, calling for Anti-Fairies interested in 'Tearing down gynedom' and 'Setting drones free' to rally at the border with picket signs and loud voices in seven days' time. I gazed at it for a moment, then turned away. Free from what? From abusive gynes, absolutely, but… Were all gynes abusive? Mickey wasn't. Binky wasn't. Shamaiin wasn't. Mr. Whimsifinado… I wasn't sure. In any case, maybe it was time we followed Anti-Willow's lead and actually bothered to ask drones what they wanted, instead of just assuming we Anti-Fairies understood Fairy culture better than the Fairies did. What sort of hypocrites would it make us if we yelled for them to end their gyne/drone practices, yet hissed angrily whenever they yelled at us to end our sociosexual ones?

We come from very different cultures…

Abusing others was immoral. That, I still firmly believed. But if gynes and drones mutually consented to and enjoyed the intimacies of their preening relationships, and it wasn't doing anyone any harm… What was wrong with that?

It must be nice, you know. Being a gyne. You have people falling at your feet day in and day out for the chance to praise and pleasure you, and gynes don't have to suffer the unpleasantries of pheromone deprivation the way drones do. Even if Future Me desires the gyne and drone lifestyle, I will never be allowed to taste it, because I was born an Anti-Fairy. Old Mr. Thimble's sneering commentary constantly rains on my ears: I wouldn't accept an Anti-Fairy if he were the High Count himself. Why, even when I preened with Mickey, I took initiative to clip my facial fur back to my scales… Even then, he'd insisted I do most of the pleasuring him, and he hardly glanced his tongue across my face in an attempt to pleasure me…

Briefly, I entertained the idea of approaching Binky with the humble request to preen much as Mickey and I had those few thousand years ago, only this time I intended to be more vocal regarding my own wants and needs. But I dashed that possibility in an instant. I didn't feel comfortable enough to ask that of Binky yet. I hadn't even told him of my alleged disorder. Besides… relationships between Fairies and Anti-Fairies were so illegal, even our innocent friendships were scorned. And should he reject me, I don't think my fragile mind would handle that well at all.

Sigh. I suppose all I really wanted was to become close friends with a gyne willing to preen with me from time to time. Someone willing to adapt to my comfort level, and who understood that we could only preen on rare occasion when I could slip across the border. Perhaps that would make me happy then.

I was back at work the following day. I'd hoped to visit Lohai, but Juandissimo informed me she was still under quarantine. The cherubs wouldn't even let me near her.

"How is he after the in-vitro?" I asked instead. Juandissimo knew at once who I was talking about. He sucked on his lower lip and held his clipboard to his chest.

"Not good, señor."

Poor bloke.

I sought out Asher with the intent of resigning on the spot if he sent me to record pixie behaviour again. I told him plain and simply that I was interested in doing ethograms for a different species now. When he asked what I had in mind, my response was instantaneous.

"Why, genies, of course."

Asher rubbed one finger against his chin. "That might could be arranged… I think Drk. Ludell suggested we assure ourselves of Vesuvius' fertility before we pair him up with Lohai when she comes of age."

I frowned. "Vesuvius… He's your indigo-tail? Er, isn't he a mite… old for Lohai?" As I recalled, he could have been her father and then some.

"He's all we have," Asher said simply. "Genies aren't easy to find." He studied me for a moment, then turned and motioned for me to follow him along the corridor. "It was a lucky coincidence you managed to find yours."

"I'd call it fate, actually."

So, I was tasked to monitor genie behaviour. To my surprise, genies turned out to be quite… uninspiring to observe. I waited days, then weeks, impatiently recording the same letters over and over again on my ethogram sheet: HB. HB. HB. Hibernating. Hibernating. Hibernating.

Once, when I was certain no one would notice me, I rapped my knuckles on the glass separating me from the two sleeping genies. Wake up, I wanted to howl. But of course, it was no use. Genies spend most of their lives resting, sleeping off the natural poisons in their native diet. Their spirits are strong, but their bodies are weak. Energy conservation is a way of life.

I refused to stand by helplessly and watch the cherubs torment Mr. Whimsifinado for science's sake, so I grit my teeth and filled my genie sheets without complaint. HB. HB. HB. The same two letters printed every ten seconds on the second, hour after hour, scroll upon scroll upon scroll. Every day I presented it to Asher, and every day he scrutinized it with agonizingly slow care, and occasionally insulted my pride by asking if I was "Sure." Privately, I think Dm. Venus told him to bore me half to smoke in the hopes I'd up and snap. Ha. He didn't know who he was dealing with. I could swallow my pride and bide my time.

It was five months before Vesuvius and Krakatoa finally awoke, and four more spent toying with their enclosure's temperature before Drk. Cupid, Drk. Lucius, and Drk. Apuleius came to find me scribbling notes in the breakroom, and subsequently requested I follow them to the Eros Nest control room.

"The what?" I asked, scarcely believing my ears. Drk. Apuleius rolled his eyes.

"The control room? Where the Triplet on duty actually does his or her work?"

I lowered my quill between the pages of my diary. "Dm. Charite wants me there? Right now?"

Drk. Cupid shrugged. "I guess. I mean, if you want to see the genies breed."

"The control room," I repeated. My hand went to my chest. "I… don't know what to say. I never believed in a hundred thousand years that I'd have the privilege to one day stand in the Eros Nest's control room."

Drk. Lucius cocked his head to one side. "Can you be flattered on the way? Dm. Charite said to make sure you aren't late."

"Yes, yes of course…"

The control room turned out to be very dark and octagon-shaped, with each of its many walls absolutely covered in… I don't know what they're called. Flat, glowing, moving pictures of sexually rendezvousing people and creatures which changed to a different pair every few seconds.

"Screens," Dm. Charite told me gently when I pointed at one and asked. "They're magical monitors that cycle through acts of copulation for species all across the universe. It's the job of the Triplet on duty to fire arrows through the screens to monitor vital signs, and we have to make snap judgements on which couples will fertilize."

"How do you do that?"

"Aengus, the ancient god of love among the Tuatha dé Danann, insisted on a random element when he bestowed his powers over love upon the Eros family line. The randomness is crucial. If we purposefully attempt to incite feelings of affection in a couple, our powers won't work. At least not for long." Dm. Charite notched another arrow in her bow and let it fly into a screen that depicted a pair of gnomes. It melted upon impact, passing harmlessly through the screen. "Some of our monitoring arrows are tipped with our approval magic. The rest with a placebo that gives off the same magical pulse in the energy field. We can't detect the difference between them, so we never know."

I gazed around the control room in wonder, turning a full circle before staring at her quizzically again. "And you have to watch all of these?"

Dm. Charite shook her head and fired another arrow into a screen depicting two Boudacians tangled in one another's arms. She whipped a new arrow from her quiver just as fast and moved to the next screen. "Not in the pocket dimensions in the Negaverse on Plane 16. And we only work with mammals, not birds or fish. They have a special tracking system for their eggs. And we don't track anything that doesn't have the potential to lead to fertilization."

"… Like Anti-Fairy lovemaking. Outside the honey-lock, I mean. You don't bless it."

"Yes, exactly! Takes a load off my shoulders. Only fertilization is important. Sex that can't result in procreation is a foolish waste of time and energy. You studied the pixie gyne, right? He's a good example. He can't fertilize his eggs. Won't ever show on-screen in his life."

I said nothing. My grip on my notescroll tightened until my knuckles turned purple. I… respectfully disagreed with her unsourced opinion.

Dm. Charite directed me towards the sofa, where she said the screen directly across from me would show me the Nest's two genies, Vesuvius and Krakatoa, pairing up for the first time in decades. "Asher will be doing the courtship ethograms up close. You're our future genie conservationist. I want you to relax and take notes at your own pace. Besides, you're more fun to talk to than that stuffy grey-winged busybody any day." She chuckled and let another arrow fly. "Ah, don't tell him I said that."

Genie conservationist. I rather liked the sound of that. Imagine: An Anti-Fairy with a respectable job title, the war and Barrier notwithstanding.

I settled on the sofa, placing my scroll on the table between a crystal ball and the box of dry snacks I'd brought. On the large screen before me, Vesuvius had begun courting Krakatoa among the red rocks and yellow grass in their enclosure, which she responded to by rubbing the underside of his chin with her head. I propped my hand against my cheek, aware that I ought to be taking notes but reluctant to look away.

After a moment spent nuzzling and coiling tighter, Vesuvius wound his indigo tail around hers and constricted very tight. Krakatoa gasped, or maybe mewled, though the image remained silent. Dm. Charite released an arrow just over my head. Twang! It passed straight through the screen with a ripple and buried itself in Krakatoa's tail. Although I could plainly make out its white shaft and pink feathers, neither genie acknowledged its presence. After several seconds, the arrow on the screen dissolved. It dropped in a bin at my feet with a clatter. Sticky, glowing embers glistened like lava on its tip. A small cherub with yellow hair dashed forward, snatched it up, and scurried off with it.

"What do your assistants here do?" I asked Dm. Charite, reaching for my ink bottle.

"They gather the arrows in the next room over and document parents, hormone levels, and warning signs for our files."

"You only shot one arrow."

"I usually shoot the damsels of every species since they have the wombs. I shoot Fairy drakes."

Several minutes passed, while Vesuvius ran his hands along Krakatoa's shoulders and murmured in her ear. I tapped my wand against my knee. "Do you think they'll have a litter?"

"Maybe."

I glanced back at her as she paused very briefly to fix her high pegasustail. "I thought we adjusted the heat levels in their enclosure to induce Krakatoa's fertility."

"That was just to get them to show up on my screen." She launched another arrow at a crockeroo couple on-screen across the room. "I'd have to randomly use a fertility arrow on them, and I won't know if I did until I have time to read the reports after Ludell starts his shift for the evening."

"And you can't guarantee the arrow you're using prior to using it?"

"There are a few tricks to make educated guesses, but generally, it has to be random or Aengus' blessing won't work."

I tilted my head. "When will they be finished?"

"Genies?" Dm. Charite smiled. "Not for hours. Once they entwine around anything tightly enough, the muscles in their tails lock and you couldn't pry them apart with a trident. They're ancient creatures brimming with all the powers of rule-free magic, and the doe spends five years pregnant. It's going to take awhile."

"I know… But this waiting game certainly makes one anxious, doesn't it?"

Dm. Charite had hardly paused from yanking arrows out of her quiver and firing them at every couple on every screen. As she set yet another against her bowstring, she nodded in my direction. "You'll know they're done when his coils loosen from around her."

"Not the first time, though, I've read?"

She shook her head without breaking eye contact from her next targets. Her tongue flicked out to dab across her lips. "The couple will relax a bit in the middle, but in reality the breeding process isn't finished. They're only resting."

I rubbed my lip with my knuckle. "Genies don't have heat cycles the way you Fairies do, so the first breed triggers ovulation. In the proper environment, her eggs will drop, and an hour or so after that, they'll rebreed. The second mating is the one that ensures pregnancy, or at least a larger litter."

"Oh… You've done a lot of research, I see."

"I mean no offense, Dm. Charite," I told her truthfully. Her voice wasn't disappointed, per se, but it carried a twinge of embarrassment at the thought of explaining what I already knew. I twitched my ears. "Please continue. Genies are a fascination of mine, after all, and I'm very interested in hearing their behaviors from the perspective of an Eros Triplet. You said they're nigh impossible to pry off anything they've coiled their tails around. I've read they used to get themselves tangled and promptly killed in the wild by catching on tree branches."

"Silly creatures," she said affectionately. "You can see why they particularly needed their rule-free magic to defend themselves from predators and the elements on their native planet long ago. If you take a close look at that screen in front of you, you'll notice our genies retreated to the warm corner of their enclosure sheltered behind the taller rocks. They have no predators here, but the instinct to conceal themselves remains. You know as well as I do that teleportation is impossible when-"

"Yes, I know that part," I interrupted, fighting the flush in my face.

Dm. Charite chuckled when I lost my desperate battle. She rustled her wings into place and drew another arrow from her quiver. Twang! Thwick! "The first breeding is mainly physical and drains their energy. The second breed is more magical and helps restore it. If they don't finish the whole act properly, they physically won't have the strength to release and untangle. To be frank, Genies are classified under the term 'elemental snakes' for a good reason. They're constrictors. Even when their free population was at its peak generations ago, surviving adults were always rare. It's beneficial for them to catch and hold a mate in place for a lengthy time to ensure procreation is successful."

"Hmm." I tapped a claw against my fangs. "Yes, I understand that completely. We anti-fairies undergo our honey-lock when locked-breeding occurs. So I suppose it's the same idea as the genies have, only our lock is psychological as opposed to a physical one. We Anti-Fairies, once taken in passion by the honey-lock, literally lose our trepidations and any desire to disengage… or so I've heard."

"Something like that." Dm. Charite glanced over at me and smiled. "We Fairies have separate organs spaced around our forehead chambers, all of which serve different purposes. An anti-fairy like you has only a single organ in there that, for simple reasons, we still refer to as your core. In reality, your cores, brains, egg nests, and the upper portions of your respiratory systems are inseparably woven into a single mass. When your counterparts mate, the effects ripple from their cores into yours, though it takes three months for them to hit you." The bow went back to her shoulder, eyes back to the screen. "With your third of your shared core in direct contact with your other organs, every one of your body systems reacts to the ripple. Your counterpart being in such intimate contact with another Fairy triggers your body to seek the match out. Your mate-seeking behavior goes on, your fertile colours flare up. And, since your brain assumes that you're in the presence of a fertile female, and since anti-fairies are fertile for only a few hours at a time, your body floods you with an overabundance of hormones to put you in the mood."

With all due respect, dame, I thought, I believe in the theory of separate cores that linked up following a mental bond, not split ones broken off a single source. But all I said was, "Ooh, that is interesting!"

"It is. Or at least, I think it is. Have you ever personally witnessed a honey-lock couple before?"

"A few times," I said, my eyes on Vesuvius and Krakatoa patiently making gentle love. I reached for my box of snacks. "I come from a fairly large colony."

"You may or may not know this, but Fairies have the most sensitive noses among the Fairykind, allowing them to have the most sensitive tongues as well. They smell and taste attraction signals in the energy field the same way your people hear vocal signatures. Honey-locked Anti-Fairies, quite frankly, stink, and Fairies recoil at the smell and steer clear."

I turned, slipping dry cereal mix into my mouth one square at a time. "Do we?"

"Mmhm." She released another arrow. "The gland that releases the chemicals to change the colour of your fur also releases thiols into the air to keep predators away, and in the hopes of warning off your competition."

Frowning, I rubbed around my blind eye. "How do you mean competition? They're locked, aren't they? Who can compete with that?"

Dm. Charite risked another glance at me, her brow furrowing up. "You don't know?"

"I'm afraid I'm not sure I'm clear as to what you are implying."

"Anti-Fairy fertility. As soon as the honey-lock takes hold of you and alters the colour of your fur, you're fully fertile. Capable of breeding successfully with any fertile Anti-Fairy of the appropriate sex. Don't you guys know this?"

Capable… of breeding… with any… fertile…

I stared at her, my mouth half-parted. The rest of my cereal bits trickled through my fingers and into my lap. It couldn't be. It couldn't be. I sat up on my knees, clenching the back of the sofa with my claws. "H-how do you mean 'breeding successfully'?"

Dm. Charite lowered her bow. She stared at the nearest screen for three seconds. Then she turned around. "You do know that when you Anti-Fairies are fertile, you can literally have pups with any other fertile Anti-Fairy, right? You're drawn to your honey-lock partner by instinct, but if you stumble across another honey-locked and fertile anti-fairy of the appropriate sex along the way and decide to breed with her instead, you're fertile and you can successfully produce a kid. This is like, basic Fairykind biology. I learned this when I was a thousand. You know this, right?"

"… Uh…"

"You're yanking my lines." Dm. Charite turned back to her work with a disbelieving shake of her head. "What are they teaching you in school these days?"

You can fight the honey-lock…

"That's not in my research," I said quietly. My palms pressed over my ears. "I thought Fairies had to have their babies before we could have ours. Why, I was taught since birth that Fairy nymphs are born with the full magic pool that would normally be shared between all three counterparts- that's what makes baby magic so pure and powerful. Fairy nymphs gather energy from such a full pool over the next few months. But left much longer than that, they will slowly die. Drowning, in a sense, in their own magic. That's why they need Unseelie counterparts. We Anti-Fairies stake a share of that magic pool for ourselves. The Refracted take another. We divide our shared magic and balance one another, preventing that smothering death. But if an Anti-Fairy was born without a host… they would never have a magic pool to begin with, would they? They wouldn't drown in it, but they couldn't breathe, either." I shivered at the memory of Dm. Venus driving her thumbnail into my windpipe. That alone had knocked me gasping to the floor.

Brief silence fell between us, accented with the sound of Dm. Charite loading and releasing her bow, and her assistants gathering arrows as they dropped into bins. Then she said, "Julius, consider two Fairykind. Any of the three genera you want; it doesn't matter which you pick, as long as both belong to the same one. Imagine two of them. They are fertile. They meet. They breed. They conceive. They bear a child. A new child of the Fairykind. Julius, can you imagine it? Can you imagine what happens that night to the parents of its future counterparts?"

A rock settled in my stomach. My ears folded back. "No… You don't mean what I think you mean."

"Yes. Its parents' counterparts honey-lock the same night the hosting child is born. The new pup-"

"Stop it!" I pinned my ears down once more, squeezing them with my claws and screwing up my eyelids. Whatever I'd imagined after all my decades of research, it wasn't this. Anything but this. "For smoke's sake, don't say it! It's not true!"

But she didn't have to. I was not a stupid child. I knew where this conversation had been going. After a few seconds, I raised my head again. Dm. Charite had her back to me, quietly engaged in her work.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to upset you and I shouldn't have said anything. Living at the Eros Nest just gets you in the habit of answering questions honestly. My shift will be over within the hour, so perhaps I could buy you lunch in apology."

"It's not true," I protested, blinking rapidly to keep the wetness out of my eyes. "For Rhoswen's sake, Dm. Charite- Tell me it's not true. The Fairies wouldn't keep that information a secret. They don't hate us that much!"

Dm. Charite shrugged her wings. "Three counterparts, Julius. Three equal counterparts, all born from the Aos Sí. Didn't you ever wonder?"

No.

No, no, no… Splitting is a Daoist myth. The Zodii know it isn't true. Evolution is the way it happened. Daoism can't be true, because I am Ilisa bloody Maddington reborn, and I know reincarnation is real. We can't both be right!

"B-but…" I flung my arms out to either side, still balanced on my knees on the sofa. "Anti-Fairies can't give birth to hosting counterparts! Fairies are the Seelie Court. The only race counted as members of the Seelie Court. They're the dominant ones, always our hosts, and we as Unseelie exist only to balance them! We're submissive! We don't get to be hosting counterparts!"

"Why?"

"Because they… they told us this is how things are. Oh my gods. Oh my gods- Bloody Darkness, I need to sit down." I did, falling back on the sofa with a flop, my eyes riveted on a screen just a bit to my left. Curiously, it showed no couple engaged in any sort of intimate act. This one merely showed the corridor just outside the control room, with the Eros Archives door centered plainly. My chest heaved. My words choked. "Dm. Charite, are you serious? Fairies really can honey-lock too, in response to us producing fertile children? I mean, only if we Anti-Fairies should have our fertility switched on to start with, at least until we breed a generation of hosting counterparts, I suspect, but- By smoke, it makes so much sense! Why did I never think of this before? You really aren't yanking my wing now? We Anti-Fairies can actually be born as hosts under the proper circumstances and receive everything that goes with it?"

"Everything that goes with it," Dm. Charite confirmed, but her voice was hollow. Another arrow flew past my head. "Regardless of species, the hosting counterpart has direct connection to the energy field through your magic breathing lines. A hosting core. Separate organs in their forehead chamber. Regular heat cycles. The capability of breeding with any other hosting Anti-Fairy of the appropriate sex. The inability to regenerate if they're killed."

I briefly entertained the thought of permanent death, then shook my head and finally released my ears. Anti-Fairies as hosting counterparts. Can you just imagine it? Anti-Fairies!

And… and it's all within my grasp. If I could simply orchestrate Fairy-Cosmo and Qalupalik-Saffron to breed simultaneously with other Fairies - anyone, even if it wasn't one another - then Mona and I would come into our fertility at the same time, and once we shook off the command of the honey-lock, we could finally conceive a legitimate…

I didn't even need Ilisa's sperm and Juandissimo's eggs at all!

"They didn't teach me this in school," I said, scrubbing my burning tears away. "I've spent my whole life engaged in reproductive research, you know, ever since I was eight years old. I never found any mention of it. I don't think Anti-Fairies even know. Perhaps even Fairies don't, beyond Triplets like you and your cherubs. Of course your parents would pass that information down, even if society shushed it from the rest of us."

At that, Dm. Charite scoffed. "Well, then past generations wanted you all to be good little counterparts and not try to fight the honey-lock."

Before I could say anything else, an enormous shriek outside the control room door wrecked the halls: "FERGUS WHIMSIFINADO!"

Dm. Charite faltered. Her arrow missed its mark. In sync, we turned to the control room door. "Was that Venus?" she asked. "She doesn't usually scream loud enough to be heard from here."

"Ow," I said a few seconds later, touching two fingertips to one ear. The drums smarted with pain.

"Get Ludell," Dm. Charite ordered her assistants. "My shift's about to end. Venus may need me."

Cherubs scrambled. I stayed on the sofa, gazing at the screen to my left that depicted the Eros Archives door. Pixies and anti-pixies stood in the corridor, staring up at the massive entryway. All of them were small. Mr. Whimsifinado and Anti-Fergus were nowhere to be seen.

"Fergusius Whimsifinado!" Dm. Venus howled again. Dm. Charite and I exchanged a glance.

Drk. Ludell rushed into the room a moment later, his bow in hand and an arrow notched. "Go," he spat to Dm. Charite, and she didn't waste an instant. She raced from the control room. I unsheathed my wand and chased after her. As we flew wing to wing through the corridor, she glanced back at me.

"Julius, you'll just be in the way."

"Dame, I assure you, I'm nearly an adult and I can handle myself."

"In that case, I know where you'll be most useful. We had to move one of the anti-pixies to the solitary confinement corridor. Anti-Fergus won't leave without him. Head him off there."

"Got it." When she turned left, I veered to the right instead. I didn't even make it to the solitary confinement corridor before a large green figure seized my shoulders and slammed me to the wall. Crack went my head on solid cloudstone.

"Hand over your wand!"

"Wha-?" My eyes rolled about in my skull. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. "Anti-Fergus, it's me! Julius! Anti-Robin's son!"

"Your wand!" The anti-pixie's eyes blazed crimson. "They've got Ennet captive, and I ain't leaving him behind. Give over your wand or I'll rip your tongue out here and now so you'll never kiss again, I swear! Yer pop would forgive me for this!"

"O-okay," I stuttered, feebly holding out my wand to him.

"Both of 'em! Yer your mum's son. I know you've got two!"

I unclipped the second from the back of my leg. He snatched both and tore off again, as quick as he had come.

… Well. As panic spread through the facility and cherubs filled the halls, I decided this was as good a time as any to find Juandissimo and grab something to eat for lunch, hm?