There was a second knock on the door.

"Coming! Just a moment!" Amelia called as she opened the door from the living room into the boot room. From there, she was able to open the front door.

She blinked rapidly as she took in the person at the front door, and the crowd behind it. At first sight, she saw a rather plain, drably dressed young man, slightly shorter than she was. He had a rough shepherd's crook leaning against his left shoulder, and a cute black-and-white baby goat in the crook of his left arm. His right arm was extended to knock at the door and hung there for a moment when she had opened it. Behind the man was a flock of sheep and goats of varying sizes and colors.

The shock came as she blinked, and the afterimage was quite different. She stopped blinking and stared carefully at the man. He wore foul-stained khaki clothes and stood at least twelve feet tall at his hunched back. His head thrust forward, and lank green hair hung sparsely from under his shabby black tricorn hat. Fangs jutted up from his massive prognathic jaw, and his eyes were almost solid black, with just a pinpoint dot of glowing blue in the center.

The flock behind him were double the size they had seemed at first, many with six or even eight legs. And with significantly more horns and fangs than most sheep and goats are entitled to on a good day. Their fur was mostly mottled blacks and dark reds, with a few more one color than the other.

Strangely enough, the kid in the man-creature's arm looked about the same, but with eyes that were dark green with vertical black slits, like cat eyes. Its fur was a solid, light-devouring black void.

Amelia stood with jaw agape for a moment. This was not a turn she thought baking day was going to take.

"C-c-can I help you?" she forced out.

The hulking figure nodded his head once, then pointed off to his right and started walking in that direction. After a few steps (which took him most of the way across the yard), he looked back at Amelia and gestured for her to follow him, before continuing on.

She briefly considered ducking into the shed and grabbing the business bill but quickly quashed the thought. She had no idea how to use it, and besides, the man could probably still outreach her with his massive arms. He also seemed peaceful enough, although anybody whom goats followed that docilely was a little suspicious.

Well, after all, she was the caretaker, and supposedly this sort of thing was her job. With that, she shrugged and quickly jogged after the monstrous shepherd. His flock straggled along after them, quickly mowing down the grass and shrubs along the way. Good thing there was a stout fence around Briar's garden, she thought fleetingly.

She followed for a ways before she realized they were on an actual path. Not one that she had cleared, but with her sharpened sight there was clearly a trail through the woods.

She blinked rapidly again and saw the path appear clearly, then fade away, appearing to be just random space between trees and plants. The same was true as she looked at both the man and the furry creatures following them. It seemed like if she didn't concentrate, they looked like they first had, completely boring and innocent. It took a slight amount of effort to see the nightmarish version that was surely their true visage. She'd have to ask Lark about that, assuming she ever saw any of her friends again.

Enough of that! She scolded herself and eyed the woods around them as they passed.

Amelia had been sure she'd seen most areas of the hollow as she had wandered in her early time here. But it dawned on her how big the place truly was, and that she'd almost entirely stuck to the paths and clearings of the wood. There must have been a tremendous amount she had missed!

It wasn't much longer when the man halted, and pointed ahead of himself. Amelia drew level with him and looked towards where he was pointing. It was a towering tree of a kind she was unfamiliar with, gnarled and at least as old as Alder, but with no sign of sentience like her friend. The ground around the tree was trampled flat, with all the plants nibbled down to the dirt. Large craters dotted around it, and she quickly worked out that this was where the flock must sleep.

"Hello, sweetling. Come to bring me more candy? Or something even more ..." came a familiar voice, hissing through sharp teeth, "... juicy?"

The sound came from up in the branches of the dark-barked tree. The woman, who looked like a bundle of rags and sticks, blended right in, and it was only with focus that Amelia could see her clearly.

"Oho! Someone has the sight, they do they do! Looks right at us, first thing! Now isn't that a surprise, sweetling! I thought you were just a little snack, come to get et up." The thing's long, nasty tongue slid around her lower jaw, licking up the dripping drool. "Of course, a snack that can see you tastes just as sweet, sweetling!"

"You're the one from the vault, aren't you? I shared toffee with you! I could get you some more if you wanted." offered Amelia.

The crone glanced over to the little goat in the crook of the shepherd's arm, then back to Amelia. "Aww, what a kind offer you make. But my belly is all shrivelled from so many years of famine in that place, and I already had the nanny of a meal. Or the meal of a nanny, rather!" she cackled evilly.

"Did you eat one of this guy's goats? That isn't nice! And I think you are in his tree! So you should get down and leave after you make amends. Right now!" The words came out much sterner than she had thought she could manage, with just the least bit of quaver to her voice.

"Oh really, you delightful morsel? And why don't I just eat you up instead, hmmm? Hmmm?" She wiggled her fearsome taloned claws in front of her face, then tilted her head to the side and snapped her teeth once, CLACK!

"You need to leave! Right now! I'm the-the c-caretaker of this wood, so what I say goes!" Amelia stamped her foot, which was dramatic, but made less so as it jostled the tea towel from off her shoulder. It drifted ludicrously to the ground, trailed by a cloud of flour.

"Hah! As if you ..." the hag started to say when she was interrupted.

[Eviction action activated. The Hag known as "Dwells at the ash-tree meadow" has been banished from Realm Beorhtmund.]

"What what what! Wait! Nooo" screeched the hag, falling from the tree and crashing to the ground in a cloud of dust. She crawled, unharmed, to start grovelling at Amelia's feet. "Nooo! I joke! Sweetling! Let me back in! I'm exiled from Megrim! The Erlking will kill me! Let me back in, innnn, innn!"

Amelia looked at the wretch at her feet, confused. At first, she couldn't see any difference from the 'eviction action' Bert had called. As she watched, though, she got the impression she was seeing the hag not quite so clearly, as if at a distance or through a mist. Which was very weird, since at the same time she was as clear as day.

She looked over at the shepherd, who stood there stoically, gently patting the little goat in his arms. He looked from the hag to the goat, to the tree, then back to Amelia, and gave a shallow nod.

Amelia wasn't exactly sure what that meant but interpreted the looks to mean he was fine with the hag if she stayed out of his tree and compensated him for his missing goat.

"Right. Ahem. If you swear that you will leave this guy alone, stay away from his tree and his flock, AND not cause me any trouble, you can come back. Swear?"

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The hag nuzzled her head along the ground until she was next to Amelia's trainer, and the tip of her tongue reached out to lick the shoe's toe. Surprisingly, it passed right through, as if immaterial.

"Of course sweetling! Of course! Anything you say, just hurry! I can feel his eyes on me! Let me innnnn!" she replied, ending on a low wail.

"Swear on the thing you hold most dear! I mean it! Bert will know if you're lying!" She didn't know that to be true, but it sounded good.

"I swear! I swear on writhing flesh and wriggling meat, cracking bones and juicy marrow! On darkness and death, I swear!" hissed the low, chilly voice.

Amelia shivered at the words, but a promise was a promise.

"Bert, please let her back in, if you don't mind."

[Acknowledged. The Hag known as "Dwells at the ash-tree meadow" has been granted conditional entry to Realm Beorhtmund. Monitoring.]

The hag instantly lost the faded look as the message from Bert popped into Amelia's mind.

"Thank you, sweetling! Thank you! No trouble, no trouble! Payment is due, yes due. I'll fetch it, then find a new hole and leave be" The hag said in a voice both oily and grating, as the creature crawled away along the ground, disappearing past the trees.

Amelia watched her go, then turned to the shepherd. Her eyes were starting to water from the strain of focusing, and she relaxed her gaze a bit. It was certainly easier to see the man as a dowdy, drab human than his true self.

The shepherd looked at her for a moment, then reached out and placed the kid in her arms. He patted its head, then Amelia's, and walked back into the forest, the herd following him.

"Wait! Your goat! Wait! What am I supposed to do with him?" she called after the man. The little animal looked up at her with adoring eyes, and she couldn't help but stroke his head between the little horn nubs. Then she felt the warmth dribbling down her arm and onto her pants.

"Sorry about that, darlin'. That dufus wouldn't put me down, and my bladder's only so big, you know. My horns were floatin'."

"Uh, you can talk!"

"Yeah, can do, can do. Not much use with ol' mister chatty, there, but yeah."

Amelia set the kid down and wiped herself off with the towel. Her clothes were definitely stained.

"White vinegar and water, that's what you want. Get that right out. Probably better hurry before it sets, though."

"Uh, right. I'm Amelia, by the way. What can I call you?"

"Pan. Pan-Pannnn-pancake! Yeah, Pancake's my name. Family name. No relation, though, really. Just a boring old goat name. Pancake. Yeah."

"No relation to who?" Amelia asked quizzically. The name didn't ring any bells.

"To whom, you mean. Oh, you know, just no relation in general. Just a totally normal, ordinary goat, that's me."

"Uh-huh. A totally normal, ordinary goat that talks."

"True, true, can do, can do. So, make that 'normal and ordinary' for around here, good enough?"

Amelia wasn't entirely convinced, but anything named after such a tasty food couldn't be all bad, now, could it?

"So, are you going to run along and join your family?"

"Well, first off, those aren't my family. Did they look at all ordinary to you? And second, I don't run, I trot. Or gallop. Running's undignified for a goat."

"Oh. So now what?"

"I heard someone mention toffee a while back. I would murder for some toffee." He raised his nose and sniffed a bit. "And is that dwarf brandy? 'Cause if it is, you should totally share. I can't sell you my soul for it -- got some other arrangements going on in that department, on the down low, so to speak. But I can take care of any weeds you got, frolic, gambol with the best of 'em, and cute the trousers right off you."

"Okay. I guess you could help Briar with the weeds in the garden, but no eating the other plants, okay?"

"Sure thing, doll face! Now about that drink, I got plenty of bladder room now ..."

----------------------------------------

"Interesting, Caretaker. Well done dealing with the Hag. I had worried she would be trouble, but perhaps she will behave herself if she is so terrified of banishment." Lark said. The bird was perched on the back of the armchair in the living room, while Amelia was on the hassock in the window. She was trying to keep an eye on Pancake and Shock. "I apologize for not being able to attend to that, as I usually would have. I was attending to something on the far side of the wood."

The singer peered through the window some more, watching the chaos.

"So where does the puppy come into this story?"

"Oh! She was asleep on the porch when I got back with Pancake. There was a note. It was probably written in blood, ewww, by the way! But it said the puppy was a peace offering, and that her brother was given to the shepherd as repayment for the goat. Must have come from the hag, but it wasn't signed."

"I see. And why the name 'Shock'?" asked Lark.

"Dunno. Just came to me from something Pancake said when he saw her. Something about 'gonna shock the bejesus out of people!', I think he said. He wouldn't explain why, though."

The goat and puppy had joined the perpetual game of chase with Whisper and Fern. The fact that the latter two could fly was only barely in their favor. The yard was quickly getting torn up by claws and hooves.

"As if those two terrors weren't enough! At least Shock and Pancake don't have hands, like Fern. Or however Whisper keeps opening things. They won't be getting into as much trouble."

"Yes, Caretaker. Perhaps it is wise to keep telling yourself that." Lark responded, somewhat ominously.

"Oh! I forgot! I need to take that bread to Sandy! I was so distracted with everything, it slipped my mind. Want to come?"

"No, but thank you. I prefer to stay within the hollow. I have duties to attend to. Perhaps take your wrecking crew with you, instead."

"Yeah, maybe the walk will wear off some of their energy. Good suggestion. See you later!" Amelia waved as Lark flew out. During the remodel, she'd added a window panel at the top of the bay window so her flying friends could come and go as they pleased. She'd have to ask Bert to install a doggy/goaty door now as well, it looked like.

She gathered one of the loaves of freshly baked berry-nut bread and wrapped it in a clean towel. She also grabbed a flask of the brandy and an earthenware jug of the dwarf ale. Everything went into her rucksack, then she was out the front door.

"Gang! Field trip to town! Who's with?" She called.

Whisper zipped down to land in her hair, followed closely by Fern, who claimed her left shoulder.

"Trip! Trip!"

"Shock? Pancake? You wanna come? We can get toffee! And you can meet my friend, Sandy, she's great!"

"You had me at toffee, babycakes!" bleated Pancake eagerly, trotting after Amelia. His short legs were a blur as he kept up with her pace.

The puppy galumphed after them, her feet sliding about as she charged after the goat. The black dog made yapping movements with its mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, there was a disturbing silence that enveloped all other sounds for a brief moment. Amelia did her stare trick at the puppy. In her second sight, it had slightly larger teeth that crowded its mouth, and paws that were hugely out of proportion with the body. But otherwise, seemed like a normal dog. Well, normal for the hollow, it seemed.

As they walked down the path towards the gate, Amelia turned her head slightly to speak to the goat.

"Say, Pancake, what does 'Me Grim' mean?"

The puppy's ears perked up at the question but kept her boisterous run going so she could sniff every tree along the way.

"Yeah, you probably mean 'Megrim' there, honey buns. That's the name of one of the realms that overlap here. The magic one, not the blah mundane one." he answered matter-of-factly.

"I thought that was [Hearth Haven Hollow]?"

"Whoa whoa whoa! Cool it with the magic talk there, blabbermouth! Save that for when you really mean it! But that's just the name for this specific overlap. There are others, of course. Other overlaps, I mean."

"Sorry! You know magic?"

"Baby doll, who doesn't? I know a trick or two, don't worry. I'm not just an overwhelmingly adorable face, after all."

"Could you teach me some? I keep asking Lark, and she just makes me work on my whistling. Briar has been trying to teach me potions, but that's just lots of memorization and plant stuff. So far, I can mostly just make tea and shampoo. And that potion of true seeing, but that was an accident."

"True seeing, you say? That explains a few things! Bet you were puckered tighter than a duck's bum when you saw tall and silent and the furries, earlier, weren't you? That must be why you could see Ol' Ashlee up in the tree."

"Ashlee? Who's that?" Amelia asked, confused.

"Hah! That old hag thing. She uses 'Dwells at the ash-tree meadow' now since Ashlee is too fashionable, but that's the old meaning." The goat snickered. "I mean, it's an old name and all, but hard to be taken seriously by the serious people, you know?"

"Says the goat named Pancake!"

"Hey now, sister! I'll have you know serious people take pancakes seriously! Believe you me on that one! But now I got a question for you, girly girl. How did you banish her? That takes some serious mojo or connections, if not both. How did you swing that?"

"Uh, actually, Bert did that. He sometimes does what I ask, 'cause I'm the caretaker of the hollow."

The goat stopped his frantic trot and stared at the girl.

"Bert? You don't mean Beorthmund, do you? The Bright Protector? That 'Bert'?" He was visibly stunned.

"Yeah, I think that's his full name. I have trouble with some names. Like, I know Donald's real name isn't 'Donald', but 'Done Walled' is a silly name, and it's fun to give him a hard time about it. But I like Bert, and he doesn't seem to mind that as a nickname."

"Whoa! Whoa! WHOA! You're on nickname basis with The Bright Protector, who 'does stuff if you ask'? Maybe you should teach me magic, sister! And if you are even in the ballpark of hinting at who I think that other one is, I just gotta say I don't even want to know. Not one more word. Uh uh, too much for this goat! Way above my pay grade!"

Amelia had no idea what to make of the goat's reaction. Bert was nice and Donald was annoying, and that was pretty much the end of it as far as she was concerned. That, and Bert was the Hollow and the Cottage, more or less, and could do cool stuff. Donald just whined, as far as she knew.

"Hey, Miss 'I got friends in high places'? What's with all the ravens watching the gate? You expecting company?"