The grove of Daphnis wasn’t what Will had expected. The little town that had sprouted around it seemed... normal, perhaps even a bit boring, but the grove itself was something else entirely. It looked to him like a huge gala had been set up in the middle of the forest, a fancy celebration for the benefit of some inscrutable natural force. Thick tree trunks formed circular tables upon which sat trays of food, like a massive buffet. From the way people crowded around them, this might have been exactly accurate.

A satyr in a dapper vest and nothing else offered a tray of what looked like little sliders or stuffed rolls to Glory, then to each of them in turn without ever fully stopping. The grace with which he moved struck Will as slightly off. Dio grabbed a large handful and Will took one with a quiet “thank you.”

“These aren’t cursed, right?” asked Will as he poked the sandwich open. It appeared to be a small fish sandwich, but instead of a savory condiment, what looked like baked apples had been spooned on top. “Like I’ll be willing and able to leave after eating it?”

“The food here is entirely mundane,” said Virgil, taking some kind of colorful drink from another satyr waiter. “Just sometimes peculiar. Daphnis is known for his adventurous palette.”

Unable to see somewhere to discard food and unwilling to drop it on the ground, Will instead took an apprehensive bite of the apple-fish sandwich. To his surprise, it wasn’t bad at all.

Glory tapped a passing satyr on the shoulder with a wing, who turned in surprise and seemed to trip on something. Will, who avoided looking down as a matter of habit, did so, and realized that each satyr hadn’t actually been walking, but standing on a smooth plank, like the deck of a skateboard, that slid frictionlessly across the grass.

Despite never having skateboarded, or, as he decided what a more accurate comparison might be, surfed in his life, Will was struck by a burning desire to try it.

“Lord Daphnis is that way,” said the satyr as he got to his feet and pointed somewhere to the far right. “You can’t miss him.”

“Thank you,” said Glory. “I apologize for startling you.”

“It’s alright,” he said. He turned slightly to make eye contact with Will. “I wouldn’t mind a tip, though.”

“Not tonight I’m afraid,” said Glory, covering Dio’s mouth and confiscating Rex’s whistle. “We’re on urgent business.”

“Wait,” Will said. “Before you go. Where can I get one of those boards?”

The satyr gave him a puzzled, slightly annoyed look. “Just grow one, dude,” he said, before surfing off again.

Glory returned Rex’s whistle and retracted his wings. To Will, he psychically whispered “I can show you how later. And, because you’re now unsure, yes, you also have square pupils.”

Will was briefly unhappy until he tried a cupcake that somehow had a core of fresh banana, which was good enough to lighten his mood.

There was a booming laugh from ahead, and an entire tree shook back and forth. Then, Will realized it wasn’t a tree, but a huge deer whose antlers blended into and interlocked with the branches of the forest. “Is that Daphnis?” Will asked, pointing at the deer.

“No,” said Virgil. “That’s his jailer.”

Daphnis-or at least who Will presumed was Daphnis- was sitting cross-legged on the ground at a bonfire-slash-table opposite the titanic deer. He was still huge: though he was seated he was still at least eight feet tall not including his horns, which like the deer’s were huge and winding.

Daphnis was a satyr, just like Will and the waiters. Golden chains were wrapped around one of his arms, his legs, and his neck, holding him in place with his back to a huge, thick tree stump. He was held quite tightly from what Will could see, but he was clearly having the time of his life telling something to someone seated next to him.

“Lord Daphnis!” Virgil shouted, but the titan didn’t appear to hear him. “Lord Daphnis, we bring a gift!”

“Is it food?” someone who was not Daphnis shouted back.

“No!” Virgil shouted, cupping his hands together. “It is a gift from Lord Polybius of Arcadia!”

The crowd around Daphnis suddenly fell silent, and Will could practically feel the spike of animal terror that gripped Virgil as everyone focused on him. Significantly more quietly, Virgil squeaked out “It’s an Arcadian laurel.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Well,” Daphnis boomed expectantly. “Bring it here.”

Virgil took a stiff step forward, then handed the vial to Glory, who floated around the bonfire until he was standing next to the giant satyr, barely coming up to Dapnis’ knee. An attendant, who was either wearing an antlered helmet or simply had antlers, took it and uncorked the vial. With great ceremony he took the germinating seed and planted it in a terracotta pot that Will could’ve sworn hadn’t been there a moment ago.

Green swirls of magic encircled the pot, stimulating the plant’s growth. It didn’t look like a laurel to Will, though, and the magic suddenly turned a vicious red as the plant began growing out of control, leaves sharpening to wicked thorns.

Partygoers started backing away as the plant grew more and more, siphoning magic from the men who had been stimulating its growth.

Daphnis looked only mildly disappointed as the plant swelled larger and larger, stalks and branches arranging into limbs and heads, wrapping around anything and anyone they could.

“A nettle hydra!” Glory exposited, shielding his immediate area with a sweep of his wings. Virgil ducked behind him as a snapping ball of spikes and eyes tried to snap at him, where Will sliced through it in turn.

The hydra’s mind, or soul, or whatever it was, was difficult for Will to grasp. What he could tell was that was confused, angry, and above all starving. It was desperately searching for food, the imperative overpowering everything else. Despite appearances it had no true mouths, instead, the innumerable thorns and barbs it was covered in drained blood from its victims as it thrashed.

The nettle hydra was still growing, limbs and flowery heads extending in every direction searching for food. Virgil was kneeling on the ground, digging lines in the circle, concentric rings and spirals Will felt he recognized from somewhere. The halfling mumbled something to himself as he worked, stopping and re-starting as he perfected some geometry that only made sense to him. Whatever he was doing kept most of the brambles at bay, and Will and Rex worked quickly to cut off any that forced their way through.

One thorny branch managed to hook around Will’s leg, and nearly managed to pull him down. Will snapped himself free, but the wounds were bleeding rapidly even from superficial cuts. Just like most sanguivores, the nettle hydra thinned its victim’s blood, and distantly Will observed that where his blood pooled on the ground, the nettle burrowed into the soil and sprouted a carpet of tiny, white flowers.

Through the thickening tangle Will could see Daphnis, who was still looking nonplussed by the whole situation. Vines and stalks attempted to drain him, but any that touched him withered away as if burnt. His jailer, whatever it really was, wasn’t as lucky, and the animalistic scream the giant buck made as the hydra began draining it thundered in Will’s ears.

“That’s quite ENOUGH!” Daphnis shouted, wrenching his hand forward. For a moment, the whole stump pulled forward before the chain snapped. Daphnis grabbed part of the hydra and crushed it in his grip, the entire body dissolving from its center into pale flower petals.

As quickly as his temper rose it fell, and the chains that bound Daphnis to the stump reformed. Panicked survivors got to shaky feet, most still visibly bleeding.

“You,” Daphnis said, pointing his free hand at Glory. “Explain.”

“Lord Daphnis, you must know we had no intention of setting loose such a creature,” Glory stammered. “I have no idea how the laurel seed was replaced with a nettle hydra’s.”

“I believe you, angel,” said Daphnis. “So I trust you to find whoever was responsible, and bring them to justice. I understand you had a favor to ask of me? Consider this the new trade. Bring me the traitor’s head, and I’ll supply you with whatever plant you need.”

“Allow me to assist with cleanup, first,” Glory said. “I would be happy to tend—”

“It will be handled,” said Daphnis. “Waste no more time.”

Glory started to say something, then stopped. “As you wish, Lord Daphnis.”

As they left the Revel Will attempted to comfort Glory.

“You couldn’t have known that would happen,” he said in his best reassuring voice. “It was… espionage, or something. A trick.”

“I don’t know who could have tricked the quest office like that,” said Glory, lost in thought. “They’re almost impossible to fool. And they would never do it themselves.”

“What times would it have been possible to pull the trick at all?” prompted Will. “If we can narrow it down, we can search—”

“I know who it was,” said Virgil suddenly. “It was those bandits. They must’ve swapped it while we were distracted in the fight. They weren’t trying to steal the laurel at all; they were trying to pull that switcheroo.”

“That’s plausible,” Glory said, sounding pleasantly surprised, and more convinced as he continued. “In that case, it’s as simple as heading into town and bringing them back here, especially if we can extract a confession. Easy as can be.”

Will could tell something was wrong as soon as they arrived at the guardhouse. The security was light, but no prisoner seemed interested in attempting an escape; the three goons from the heist were all huddled around Phoenix, crowding around him to the snake’s obvious annoyance.

“Oh, thank goodness,” the snake said upon seeing Glory. “An angel. Listen,” he paused to shove away Cecil the wasp, “you gotta tell them, they’ll believe you. The guards and these hooligans keep telling me I’m supposed to be locked up, that I’m some kind of criminal mastermind.”

“Hm,” said Glory. “Tell me. Do you know anyone by the name of Phoenix Firebrat?”

“Dammit, no, for the last time,” the snake paused again to shove the mole away. “I’ve never met anyone with as dumb a name as Phoenix Firebrat!”