Alison wasn't sure how she could be so comfortable lying on ground covered only by a layer of foliage, no matter how lush that was. Erica said it was composed of white clover and tufted vetch and birdfoot trefoil, dandelions and alfalfa and red clover, mixed in with grasses called timothy and meadow fescue, spotted with several patches of orchard grass, apparently the same thing Erica grew for Des' cats. Common honeysuckle climbed the fenceposts and wrapped around the rails.

That was only in the area nearest the stable, of course. The remaining three-fourths of her pasture extended outside the central area, and out there, a thin dusting of snow made the dry dead plants sparkle. It was actually rather fun to run in it, since she wasn't in it long enough to really get cold.

Her only tree was out in the snowy area, and Erica said it was an apple. Her own private little spring and narrow stream started at the outer edge and meandered through in the direction of her stable, though it stopped shy of it.

Near the stable, at least, there was abundant colour, the plants blooming more or less at random in the perpetual mild summer. White and yellow and pink and purple, all against verdant green. Along one side of the stream, peppermint grew; along the other, spearmint.

All of it was rich forage, Erica said, the sort of thing one planted for livestock, apart from the mint. She wasn't at all sure how long Alison's acre or so of pasture would be able to sustain one or more large animals without supplementation, but probably for a while it would, especially with the stream providing water. Many plants, she said, needed a seasonal cycle to grow properly, and if this had been intended for livestock, it might be set up to maximize long-term forage for them by having much of it seasonal but part of it consistent.

Alison didn't have to live on it, for which she was grateful. She liked salad, but there were limits.

On the other hand... she'd discovered that she rather enjoyed the taste of some of it. Absently, she reached out to pick a sprig of peppermint and bit off one of the leaves to chew. The honeysuckle was out of reach, the nearest dandelions were all too old and tough, and she didn't feel like any of the clovers right now.

Far enough from her fence that she would be unable to hear even if she tried, she saw Lloyd again. He was sitting cross-legged on the ground, and balancing something in his hands. She'd seen the way light reflected from it before, and was sure it was a mirror with an ornate frame. He looked like he was having a conversation. Positioned where he was, she could see him, but he was invisible from the house.

If she had to spend her days confined somewhere to convince Isabel and her allies that she was docile and obedient, there were certainly worse environments. There was enough space that she could run laps around the inside of the fence to work off extra energy, and in fact there was a visible flattened path marking the frequency with which she did so. If she really wanted to, she could go in the stable.

Of course, that fence had been magically reinforced. Des could hop over or through or under it effortlessly, and bees buzzed back and forth, but Alison had to wait until the physical bar across the outer stable door was removed before she could leave her own little habitat. It was turning out to be a more complex spell than the ones JC was so diligently unravelling, and so far it had been resistant to all efforts. JC thought it might be older and possibly created by someone else. The previous owner, presumably, because none of them believed that Phrixos or Nestor or both had created this island.

Speaking of the stable... she heard the bar being drawn back. She squinted up at the fake sun. Gord was running a little early today.

He whistled from the stable doorway. “Wakey-wakey! Time to earn your granola!”

Lazily, Alison stretched, and levered herself to her feet, which was complicated with equine legs. With no particular motivation to hurry, she ambled in his direction.

He sighed. “Oh, come on. I've seen you running. I know you can move faster than that.”

Motion in her peripheral vision caught her attention; she turned her head only the minimum necessary to track it. Lloyd was no longer sitting where he had been. In fact, he was no longer in sight.

Gord ushered her impatiently into place in front of the four-wheeled wooden cart. She waited while he used the sturdy metal snaps to fasten the leather straps at the front of the cart, his own addition, to the appropriate rings on her harness. His hands wandered, of course. She tolerated it briefly, but when it started to get too pushy, she stamped one foot and shifted her weight away from him, tail flicking in irritation; he got the hint, and backed off. He might not realize that he was here to provide further data into how fae killed, but he was somewhat intimdated by her size and strength. She'd heard him speculating with Barry about whether she might react animalistically if pushed, turning a mere human into jelly as a reflex, with consideration of consequences happening belatedly or not at all. They didn't even know she still had her voice, let alone that she could understand every word and found it highly amusing.

She was actually grateful for her harness. Nothing he invented could have fit her as well, nor could it have given her the perfect leverage to pull any weight he or Barry chose to load into the cart. And it was much better than trying to pull the thing by hand.

She followed him out of the stable, across the flat ground of the centre, to the kitchen door, and waited while he opened it.

“Hey. Livestock meals ready?”

Felix's reply was both rude and profanity-laden, but JC began to bring out the plastic covered containers that held food for those who couldn't forage for themselves. Most of them were water fae, but not all. There was a plastic basket of produce, which she already knew would include anything damaged or leftover; new to her were the ten-kilo bag of flour, five litre bottle of what looked like vegetable oil of some kind, and second basket that appeared to contain more complex groceries. She wondered where that was going, then gave herself a mental smack on the forehead: there was only one group out there that could make any use of it.

Alison stood more or less still, doing her level best to look like an uncomplaining draught animal with no particular drives of her own.

“That's the lot,” Felix said. “Here, take your lunch and let me get back to work.”

“Thanks ever so much,” Gord said. “Hey, you. I really need a name for you one of these days. Something Isabel will actually let me use. Like it matters what I call you, as long as I can convince you to answer to it. C'mon, let's go. You know the route.”

Alison started in the direction of winter, mulling over the contradictions. They took for granted that she could understand commands, but assumed she either couldn't comprehend or had zero interest in anything else said in her hearing. They assumed that she reliably knew things like the usual route, and that she would be cooperative even though neither Gord nor Barry had any way to force the issue, but also acted as though she were genuinely an animal. Probably it hadn't occurred to either that they were trying to have it both ways.

It didn't matter. It just made it easier for her to keep up her show of having no memory, no volition, and no defiance.

There wasn't exactly a road. This route presumably changed as need dictated—Zach's cage and Theo's lake were entirely new stops, after all. But she knew where to go.

They stopped at most of the lakes that had water fae in them. Even in the centre of winter, it didn't get far below freezing, and the water never seemed to freeze even in the smallest streams and ponds; Alison found it chilly but not terribly uncomfortable despite her bare skin. Most fae simply moved, but most water fae found that difficult for one reason or another. Possibly if they were in acute danger or distress, Isabel would have persuaded the wizards to relocate them as necessary, but Alison suspected the water fae would prefer the cold.

They went along one edge of the wisp swamp, and left the basket of produce there. It wasn't what the wisps most liked, more just a jumble of whatever was at hand, but it was something, and Erica had taken over making certain the wisps had the sorts of sweet juicy foods they adored. Alison saw a glimmer of bright skin and wings in the trees, which meant one of them was on watch for the delivery. They were shy of coming out into sight, and Gord was happy enough to avoid any chance of being affected by their hypnotic nature. The previous basket was waiting to be collected.

They delivered food to Dulce the friendly mermaid; Alison saw Orfeo scramble up a tree and disappear, and Paz dart with impressive speed for the shelter of some brush, the rich shades of her fur hiding her among the autumn foliage. Gord simply flung the dish into the water, and picked up the empty one resting on the shore to toss into the cart. Dulce ducked under to keep from being struck by it, then resurfaced to claim it.

They swung by one of the sets of ruins, currently in late summer. How there could be vaguely medieval-looking stone ruins was anyone's guess, but this particular cluster of them had been claimed by a number of house fae. From what Des said, it was far more comfortable and civilized indoors than it looked from outside, the house fae being clever and creative at using what they could find or improvise, but the house fae did their best to discourage the humans from taking a closer look. In fact, she saw Des peek out from behind a grey limestone wall, black ears twitching. As she'd expected, the flour and oil and other groceries were for them. There was nothing to come back from there, though.

Gord paused to sit by a stream and eat his own lunch, completely ignoring Alison. She waited patiently, moving only a short distance so she could crouch to pick a few red clover flowers to nibble on. She wasn't really hungry, but they tasted nice, just a tiny touch of sweetness.

Then they went on to the next water fae, and on from there. Alison spotted Erica picking incredibly-sweet and flavourful yellow-orange cherry-type tomatoes. Had the humans in the house known about them, they'd probably have kept them all for themselves, but they thrived outside of garden patches, out in the wilds, along with some other extremely tasty delicacies. The humans seemed to have no interest in looking for food that far out—or possibly it was just the feeling of being watched by unfriendly eyes at all times. As it was, Suzi said even the wisps very much enjoyed them, and were delighted with Erica including them with the berries and fruits and melons.

They swung past Zach's cage, and Zach roused sluggishly, in no rush to actually eat, despite Gord's cursing.

They made two more stops, then Gord turned towards the house.

“Too bad you can't just go back alone,” he grumbled. “Unhitch yourself, go back in your stable and stay there. It would save me some walking. And Barry won't promise to be close enough to the stable to take over, and fat chance Felix or Lloyd would. But like hell I'm having you standing there while I visit our siren. Too damned creepy.”

If he honestly considered her an animal, she couldn't see why it mattered. But she'd met people who were careful to close the bedroom door before sex even if the only possible audience was feline or canine, so maybe it was something along those lines. That or deep down he remembered that she'd come to this island looking as human as he did.

It didn't matter. What did was that she could certainly have returned alone, but had no desire at all to oblige him.

Among other things, it would suggest too much intelligence and self-will on her part.

But also, she enjoyed making things just a little less convenient for him. He had wanted a sexually-available fae. He had one. He had wanted a draught animal. He had one. He could live with this taking up a bit more of his time before he went to take Theo her meal and engage in subsequent activities.

“There you are,” Barry said, looking up from a garden bed. “You done with horsey-girl there?”

“Yes,” Gord said. “Only the siren left.”

Barry laughed. “Have fun. She's in a fiesty mood today. Grab hers and go. Felix wants potatoes and some other stuff. Might as well toss it in the cart instead of doing twenty trips myself.”

“Gotta dump the empty dishes.”

“Isn't that what our house fae is for? I'll take her over by the door, so the other one can clean the cart out, then get back to this.” He gestured to the large plastic basket on the ground, the bottom of it filled a couple of layers deep with potatoes.

“Not gonna argue. She's all yours.” Gord leaned over the side to get the last container of food, and left in the direction of early summer, his strides about as long as they were going to get after miles of trekking.

Alison sighed to herself. Barry would push boundaries hard, groping and grabbing her at every opportunity, and there was a limit to how far she was willing to protest and risk breaking her cover. Doing the rounds, she could watch for pigeons and bees and unsocial fae, and at least she was moving most of the time. Pulling the cart around for Barry, on the other hand, was boring.

“Come on,” Barry growled, slapping her on one flank—he couldn't quite make it fall onto the cheek of her bottom, the strap tethering her to the cart was in the way, but he tried. She ground her teeth together and refused to respond, just trailed along behind him to the kitchen door.

*In for a dull afternoon, are you?* JC said privately, sympathetically, while emptying the cart. The containers could largely be piled into the basket that had held the wisps' food, although Gord of course hadn't bothered. JC didn't bother either. If it took longer, if it annoyed Barry that he had to wait and Felix that he was currently alone in the kitchen... too bad.

*Looks like it,* Alison said. *If I'm effectively alone anyway, I'd rather be able to just relax, instead of standing around for hours and getting groped a lot. When did this become normal life and more dull than traumatic?*

*When we adapted,* JC said. *It's better than being constantly in a state of fight-or-flight for however long it takes for Kayla or Niko to get here.*

*Let's hope it's before I run totally out of patience and feed Barry his own fingers. God, what an asshole he is. He's almost a caricature of a sexist pig, he's so bad. I know there are women who are certain that any man would act like that with nothing to stop them, but I'm not buying it. Not even in little ways, let alone like this.*

*I would kinda like to hope that I never would have, under other conditions.*

*I don't believe you ever would. Any more than Des or Zach or Theo would have. Or Wade, or Max, or Levi. But this bunch... what friggin' rock did Isabel find them under?*

*Zach made me promise not to take chances on pulling that binder out again right away to check. He's being overprotective, I know what I'm doing, but if it makes him feel better I'll stick with other kinds of midnight research for right now. Whenever I get back to that, I'll let you know.*

*Fair enough.*

*Sorry. That's about as much as I can delay.*

*Oh well. Later.* They couldn't do anything to display even recognition, let alone affection, not with Barry right here waiting impatiently and muttering curses, but that was only physically.

Docile as ever, she followed Barry to the storage shed where he collected a stack of further plastic baskets to put in the cart, then he led her back the way they'd come, towards the garden where he'd been digging potatoes.

“You used to be some use for actually gathering food,” he told her, as he lifted the basket to put it in the cart. “I don't suppose you remember how.”

Alison just regarded him blankly, and blinked slowly, her tail swishing idly.

Then, spotting a patch of carrots nearby, she ambled over to it and pulled out a mature one, brushing off the dirt. Organic carrots, as fresh as possible, with a fae sense of taste. Delicious.

Barry said something rude behind her, and went back to digging potatoes.

Alison just smiled to herself, muching on her carrot greens.

Their captors knew a lot less than they believed they did. And she and her friends were going to keep it that way for as long as necessary.

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