"By all the hells, that idiot!" cursed Rene.

Clair had just run out into the woods toward the ghoul nest in pursuit of Harlowe. Knowing where the cleric was headed was little comfort as Rene wasn't practiced or even versed in the art of combat magic. She only knew enough to work from the backlines or preferably from the familiarity of her lab or workshop. She turned from the chill of outside and back into her home, her eyes flicked towards the warded door then back to Bea who was asleep on the couch. Rene carefully stepped over the scattered books and casting implements as she made her way over to her lover.

Rene shook the sleeping woman gently. "Hey, babe. It's time to get up," she said softly.

Bea's eyes opened slowly as she turned her head to look up at Rene. The mage brushed blonde hair from Bea's vision, tucking it behind her ear. Bea reached her right hand towards Rene's.

Rene took her hand on her own. "Bea, we've got a problem."

"Now what..?" asked the blonde ranger, wiping sleep from her eyes.

Rene's thumb rubbed the back of Bea's hand, feeling the pinpricks of energy from the invisible fae contract inscribed there. "Clair and Harlowe have run off into the woods, each of them thinking they'll save everyone alone." 

Bea sighed. "What do we do?"

Rene’s shoulders slumped. "We have a couple choices. We could stay here and defend the village from any possible attack or go try and help them." 

Bea sat up and looked out the empty door frame. "Not everyone here can fight and you're not a warmage."

"And I don't want you alone with the fae. They could choose to collect on that debt at any time." Rene squeezed tighter on Bea's hand. "The warded door does need to get there and I don't trust many people to not set the thing off while carrying it."

A figure filled the arch of their doorless threshold. "I might know of someone," rumbled Marcus' voice. The old smith wore a dour expression and was without his child, Vance.

"How much have you heard?" asked Rene.

He stepped inside. "Enough to know those two are in trouble." Marcus walked over to regard the warded door. "And that they need this."

"So we don't need to catch you up," said Bea, standing. 

He nodded. "Erich has the volunteer militia mustered and those not part of it are hiding in the Folly and the Elder's home." 

"About the door, you said you knew someone who could carry it?" asked Rene, still holding Bea's hand.

"Yes, Vesna," he said bluntly.

Rene's brow twitched. "The fae lord with a contract on my love."

"And mother of my child; she'll listen to me."

"Will she?" asked Rene.

Bea tugged on her hand. "We have to hope; if anyone is going to be able to ask a favor without a steep cost, it's him."

"You'll be taking me with you to meet her. I have something I need to ask of her," said Rene, her eyes narrow and tone sharp.

Marcus nodded. "That will work. What about you, B--"

"No. She won't be joining us." Rene turned to her. "When you're able, go help your brother at the Elder's. I'll go to the Folly after this."

"But--"

"No buts, please, Bea." Rene's jaw clenched.

"Okay."

"Meet me by my home," said Marcus as he turned to leave. 

Rene looked to Bea. "I'm sorry for being so--"

Bea put a finger to her lover's lips. "I understand. Right now we have more pressing issues to deal with. I love you."

"I love you too."

___________________

 

Marcus stared at the blade, its intricate form carved from a single bone. "Never could forge a blade to match what Vesna gave me." His eyes looked toward Imerre before turning back to the forest. "That girl is keeping me waiting," he grumbled, patting the flat of the blade against his palm.

He watched the trees, his eyes following the sprites that had dwelled nearby since his coupling with Vesna. The fae had once been mysterious to him and in a way they still were, but he'd become used to their casual interactions. Even the wilds knights had personalities, not that the average person would know from an encounter in the woods. They wouldn't know how the knight with a missing antler would return lost pups to their parents or how the knight with the foreign blade let a bird nest in their skull. No one else knew how the Spring Maiden laughed at a particularly well told joke, either. 

Rene approached him from behind, waiting until she was close to speak, "Marcus, I'm sorry for the delay. I wanted to see Bea off properly."

Marcus didn't turn, just flipped the edge of the knife against his right palm. "I get it. Now let's get to it; we need to get that door to Clair and Harlowe."

Rene nodded, to herself more than him. "Then how do you call her? I've not seen it done without an array or ritual."

Marcus slid the blade of his palm, the flesh pulling away from itself as crimson blood flowed from the wound and down onto the pristine snow below. He took a deep breath and bellowed, "Vesna!"

Nothing happened for a few moments as his voice echoed between the trees. Slowly, wilds knights stepped out from the forest, their rusted and overgrown armor a stark contrast to the snow. Two of them took a forward position as white moths from across the forest swarmed together, forming the body of Vesna, the Spring Maiden. Rene watched as the fae lord walked towards Marcus, her steps not disturbing the snow at all. Vesna took his cut palm to her lips to lick up the fresh blood.

She pulled back from his palm, her lips stained crimson. "You called?"

Rene watched silently, not wanting to prevent the first request. If she spoke up now about the contract the fae held over Bea, there was a chance Vesna would leave outright. She sighed inwardly. 

"Vesna, I'm askin' for help delivering something to the ghoul nest, a door loaded up with spells from her." Marcus pointed back to Rene with a thumb. 

Rene nodded. "It should be capable of destroying the nest."

Vesna looked between the two of them, her lover and the mage. This was an opportunity for her to solve the issue of the nest without relying on either petitioning her grandmother or Isette for aid. It was important that she not reveal the request was also beneficial to her. It would be seen as a faux pas, even if made with a lover.

Vesna kept her face neutral. "What do you offer in exchange for this task? There is a chance I may lose a knight or two to the ghouls or this object you want delivered." 

Marcus exhaled. "My hand."

Vesna eyed her lover. The man may have been earnest, but he'd learned the workings of the court over their relationship. A barely perceptible twitch of a smile formed on her lips. 

"Accepted," she said plainly. 

Rene had caught the meaning as well and nodded. "The door in question is in my home, but before we go, I have a question to ask you."

"Ask." 

"You hold my Bea in contract. I ask that you annul it should we successfully see the nest removed. Surely its presence is a blight on your domain, O maiden." Rene stared directly into the shimmering eyes of the fae.

A twinge of anger ran through Vesna. "Helpful though it may be, there is no reason to annul her contract. I was already lenient with the girl. You will have to do better than that, mageling."

Rene folded her arms. "I can offer knowledge." 

Marcus watched the two stare each other down.

"Hubris to think you have knowledge I would lack," scoffed Vesna. 

Rene smirked. "Another fae lord has interfered with the affairs of your demesne."

The knights flanking the Maiden tensed.

"When I cast a tracking spell upon the half-ghoul, the vision lingered on a beetle with an ebony shell, impaled by one of their weapons." Rene watched the fae's face carefully. "I see your form does not include such an insect. I wonder if it could be the one the locals refer to as Granny."

Vesna's fingers twitched at the name Granny. 

"Seems it is true, then."

Vesna remained silent, her anger simmering just barely below the surface. Granny had interfered, led a piece in the game astray. The hag had ceded compromised woods, then sought to keep the problem from being resolved. Then there was the gall of a mortal with no direct value to her to demand anything.

"The contract will be annulled, but you will no longer be a resident of Imerre," said Vesna, her tone cold.

"Would you allow me to dwell here until the thaw?" Asked Rene.

Vesna looked to Marcus, his emotions clear on his face. This concession was for the father of her child, not the mage. "If the nest is destroyed, you may, though your lover will go with you as well."

____________________

Clair ran through the snow, the morning light filtering down through the clouds above, her steps crunching snow beneath them. She knew where to go, but she needed to be there faster. For all she knew, Harlowe could already have been overwhelmed. As she left a small clearing and entered the woods again she shook her head, trying to dislodge the idea that she might already be too late. 

"Should have looked into this right away," she muttered between breaths.

Her arms and armor felt light on her, or maybe she didn't have the luxury to feel their burden. She kept on in the direction of the nest. It wasn't long before the scent of rot and iron met her nose. 

"Downwind, must be clo-- augh!" 

Clair's foot caught on something heavy and sent her careening into the snow. She twisted and stood up then checked what she'd tripped on. It was a piece of metal jutting out of the snow, exterior black save for some scuffs that showed the steel beneath.

"Her mask…" Clair picked up, the other half swinging on its hinge. "No, damn it!" 

If Harlowe was without her mask, that meant she intended to use her teeth in the fight, which meant more of that cursed flesh in her body. What if she succumbs to the curse? 

Clair shook her head violently. "She won't. I just need to hurry."

She tried to close the mask to make it a little easier to carry, only for it to refuse to close, making her carry it with her shield arm. Harlowe will be glad to have it after this is done, no other reason to bring it than save her the trouble of replacing it.

Soon she reached the area where the soil gave way to living flesh, a carpet of biomass. Ahead was the nest, an ancient relic whose cursed cargo spawned the monstrosities that plagued Imerre; that was what the man who’d slain her sought. The pile of ghoul corpses sat in an indent made in the bleeding earth around the nest. Clair looked past it, to the tunnel that led in deeper. From the deep, near-black blood of the ghouls and the flesh that carpeted the earth of the nest was a trail of brighter red. 

"Harlowe's hurt…"

Clair stepped into the tunnel as she followed the trail. The pulsing runners of light inside the walls illuminated the way with dull blue. The door at the end was partially open, its segments that had gone into the wall trying to close. The central lock was torn out, presumably by Harlowe, the damage from which prevented them closing fully. Clair set Harlowe's mask and her spear down, pushing her fingers between the plates to try and pry it open.

Inside the larger room on the other side of the door was a Harlowe pushed beyond her limits that sat perched on a dead ghoul, its flesh in her mouth. Her mind still worked, but the hours of fighting had left her unstable, liable to lash out at anything perceived as a threat. A sound came from near the entrance; her lambent red eyes flicked from her meal to the door. A pair of hands pushed between the cracks and struggled to open it. 

"Who?" Harlowe muttered to herself.

The hands were not a ghoul's, they were human. From their shape and the sounds of effort, Harlowe assumed the individual was female. As the hands tried to prise the door open, she ran through a list of the women she knew. 

"Bea, Harriet, Rene, Lily… no, maybe Delia?" muttered the half-ghoul, swallowing another mouthful of cursed flesh. "Clai--" Her words died in her throat.

The hands on the door arced with a vivid blue light, quintessence, raw divinity. As crystals of ice began to push the door open Harlowe tensed. Being a partially turned ghoul, she had an instinctual fear of divine magic. The etched glass of her artificial talons pushed out of her prosthetic's fingers in a fluid motion. 

Metal screeched as the door was forced open, the magically created ice falling and shattering on the floor. Her enemy, the source of divine magic stepped into the room. It had to be eliminated. Harlowe broke into a dead sprint, her artificial legs pounding against the floor.

Clair picked up her spear and Harlowe's mask. She watched as the door creaked open, growing ice pushing the metal apart. Once the plates were fully apart, the ice grew over the frame of the door, keeping it open. With a gentle push, the center of it fell down into the barely illuminated room. Its layout was mostly the same as the vision shown by the Vallentins: a large room with consoles on the first level, a second level balcony and a glass dome for a section of the walls. The whole place was so dimly lit it may as well have been complete darkness, presumably without a key like the robed man had the vessel remained mostly inert. A closer examination would have to wait as Clair heard the sound of heavy steps approaching her.

Harlowe leapt at Clair, bringing her artificial talons down only to have a solid plate of metal brought up to block the attack. The enchanted glass produced a horrific screech as it dug gashes in the shield Marcushad given Clair.

Clair held the shield up, her eyes fixed on her attacker. Realization dawned on her; with a shaky voice she said, "H-harlowe?"