Chapter 8

The Evacuation Plan

Ben noted the glowing second story hall of The Fey Way passively. The faded red arched doors, the plants that were mounted on the walls and overflowing with vines and flowers between each room, the plush floral carpet beneath his boots that made him feel bad for not taking them off…

He wanted to enjoy the quiet magic of the place. But first he had to feel like he’d earned the right to do so, and as was his way, he let everything else fade from his mind.

He just had to keep moving.

Counting the black letters engraved and painted in the thick planks of the doors, Ben finally reached room number twelve at the very end.

There was a bang from downstairs that made him pause.

He listened intently for a second or two, and then raised his hand to the handle to press the latch open, when he heard another bang.

Hesitating for another instant, he gave his head a shake.

He couldn’t let himself be distracted.

With his thumb fitted against the cool metal, Ben pressed down, and then swung the door open to reveal…

His body flushed with unpleasant tingling sparked by surprise.

Ostrig Vontrik.

The short bald man stood looking more disheveled than Ben had ever seen him. Wearing a royal blue shirt, his usual thick brown leather belt, black pants… and that was it. His feet were bare. Oh, and he also waved around a wine bottle in his left hand and a stag antler in his right.

“The hells is this place?! Where am I?! You! You go get me a proper cup! I can’t keep drinking out of the others!” Ostrich brandished the wine bottle at Ben, whose breath caught in his throat.

It was during his petrified reaction that two men as thick as ale barrels appeared in the doorway.

“You ‘eard ‘im. Cup. Get it.” The one on the right growled with a voice that sounded like thunder.

Ben stared up at the men, his legs unwilling to move, his eyes wide. Horrible, icy fear quelled any rational thought until the door swung back closed, and he was left alone in the hallway once more, unscathed.

Nonsensical noise blared in his head as he awkwardly moved back the way he came, down the wide wooden staircase, all the way to the dining room, where Spidena stood up abruptly from the bench she sat on with Daffy.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” the witch remarked lightly. There were strained lines around her eyes that betrayed the fact that she knew more than she was letting on.

Fortunately for her, Ben was in no state to comment on her awareness of the situation as he proceeded to half collapse onto the bench across from Spidena.

“Ostrig is here,” he began, his throat dry. “How can he be here? He… He should be leagues away… He should be taking the long road up to Ocor. And are ghosts real?” Ben looked up at the last question, his eyes round with concern.

“Ghosts? They are real… but also not,” Daffy supplied, tilting her head back and forth.

Ben dropped his head to his hands.

He wondered if maybe he was still back in Spidena’s shop, and he was simply drifting through a very realistic, outrageous dream prompted by drugs.

“Well… To answer your question… This place… isn’t really a place.”

Ben let out a groaning shout while still clutching his face.

Which Spidena ignored and instead continued her explanation.

“Some magical places are fixed. Like some shops or homes belonging to witches. I mentioned this before so it shouldn’t be a surprise. But some places set up by nymphs, or fairies, can be accessed if the person or magical creature is in a certain… state of mind regardless of where they are. Do you understand so far?”

“No. Not at all.” Ben peered up looking utterly defeated by his day and shook his head at her.

Spidena sighed. “I, a witch, a being sensitive to magic, wanted a place to rest, and I was very tired, so I was able to stumble upon The Fey Way. However, if someone like a seeb or dodder trips over too many veins of magic, or… say… had a spell cast on them recently… they can find The Fey Wey when they feel tired or hungry and want an inn as well.”

Ben stared blankly at Spidena as her words gradually sunk in. “So because I paid you to cast a spell, or incantation, or whatever the hells it was, Ostrig was able to stumble into The Fey Wey despite originally being far away from us.”

“Precisely!” Daffy cheered happily before turning to Spidena. “Man chop doesn’t seem nearly as stupid as you said he was.”

Ben’s eyes only briefly flit to Spidena, displaying his unenthused annoyance before addressing Daffy for his next question. “If Ostrig leaves here, will he reappear back where he was before he found The Fey Way?”

“I can arrange that,” Daffy confirmed. “Though first you have to make him leave. I don’t like tossing magic willy nilly at seebs myself. You know how it is.” Daffy raised her eyebrows at Spidena who nodded emphatically in understanding.

Spidena folded her hands tidily in her lap.“Well, now that that is settled and Ben is now useless… How can we get Ostrig out?”

“You could try shoving him out the front door?” Ben proposed helpfully while once again ignoring Spidena’s insult.

Spidena cast him a very clear ‘shut up’ glance before looking back at Daffy. “What kind of spell are you hoping for?”

“Something that makes him think the place smells bad? Or like he has to go to an appointment…?” the nymph suggested reasonably.

Spidena thought about the request for a while. Crossing her arms, she started to suck on her molar much in the same way she had when Ben had first stumbled into her shop back in Gabel.

“It’s possible… I’d need a day to prepare. Unless you have the ingredients for a spell-potion.”

Daffy stood up. “I’ll go check with our cook and see what he says.”

As the nymph glided away to the solid arched door along the same wall as the fireplace, Ben regarded Spidena wearily.

“Is magic really necessary? Why can’t we just lure him out? It’d be better if we resume our traveling sooner than later, or getting to Kintel is going to take twice as long at this rate.”

“And how do you propose we lure this man, Ostrich, out?”

A slow smile climbed Ben’s face, making Spidena’s eyes narrow.

Standing with renewed vigor, Ben made his way back to the kitchen with a spring in his step… which only succeeded in making Spidena stand and stomp after him out of curiosity for whatever harebrained solution he had come up with.

*

“Is this honestly your plan?”

“Ssh.”

“You realize if they found out about this, they could have you charged once they find the nearest enforcement office.”

“Oh sure. They’ll report an event that occurred at a place that doesn’t exist. That’ll go well.”

Spidena’s gaze narrowed as she watched Ben carefully measure out the sugar that he stored into the cups. “You’ve done this before?”

Ben’s expression smoothed innocently. “You’re a suspicious one, aren’t you, tall boots?”

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“Stop calling me that.”

“Why?”

“I have a perfectly good name.”

“That’s a bit of a stretch,” Ben retorted while returning his attention to his task, then proceeded to pick up the silver spoon and give the cups all a stir.

“I’ll have you know that my name-”

“Alright, ready? Go deliver these up to them.” Ben cut off Spidena’s indignant response and pressed the wooden drink laden tray into Spidena’s hands.

She stared dumbly at it, then back up irritably at Ben. “Why am I giving it to them?”

“They’re less likely to cuss you out or threaten you.”

“How chivalrous of you.”

“I’ll wait around the corner at the end of the hallway—though I won’t be much help if his thugs come at you. Daffy?” Ben called over to the nymph who was in the middle of polishing a set of gold spoons with a gleam of adoration in her eyes.

She was so encompassed with her task, that she didn’t even look up when she responded with, “Hm?”

“Do you think you can wait around the corner with me while Spidena delivers the drinks? I mean no offense but… You look stronger than me.”

Daffy smiled beautifully, though her gaze remained fixed on the delicate filigree of the spoon in her hand. “I can, but remember, I don’t want to meddle very much. Things could get unpleasant.”

“Of course. You’d be there only as a last resort.” Ben nodded at the nymph then turned back to Spidena who was watching the exchange much in the same disapproving manner she had when he had started his explanation of his new, magic free plan.

Ben waved a hand at her before folding his arms over his chest. “Right. Off you go!”

Rolling her eyes, Spidena turned toward the stairs with the tray, but just as she was about to pick up her foot Ben held out a hand stopping her.

“I know you aren’t the most graceful on your feet, but be careful.”

“Please, I can manage a tray!”

Daffy gave a loud, tinkling laugh of amusement. “I’m sorry, Spidena, but I watched you trip twice in a row when you went to stop him from knocking on that seebs’s door.”

There was a beat of awkward quiet, then Spidena grunted in a very unladylike manner, and stomped forward. Which made some of the cups slosh forward.

She stopped and tensed to see if any would topple.

Ben stared at her back flatly, already knowing that she was getting angrier as a result that she did have to be more careful like he’d warned.

He didn’t say anything—not out of consideration, but because he didn’t want her to take exception and then refuse to go through with taking the tray up. He shook his head as he watched her go, and made his way over to wear Daffy sat. At the rate Spidena was moving they had time before following to stand guard at the end of the hallway

“I’ve never met someone equally as helpless as they are capable like Spidena.”

Daffy smiled and primly set the spoon she had just finished polishing back in its wooden holder, before picking up a pretty silver one with emeralds embedded in the handle.

“Well it’s a very good thing she has you then.”

Ben sighed. “I don’t know if that’s true or not. If she keeps being annoying and-”

“I’m going to stop you right there young man.” At last Daffy turned her attention from her spoons, her tone and expression firm. “It says poor things about a person to talk about someone when they can’t defend themselves.”

“No, I-”

Daffy’s eyebrows went up, and Ben was distracted by the lines that made up the patch of her bark skin that suddenly started to grow.

“Sorry.”

Daffy nodded in approval, the bark patch on her skin shrinking again as she returned to her spoons.

“I just-”

Daffy’s sharp gaze momentarily stopped Ben, but he continued on. “She’s just really rude, and it’s hard to travel with her.”

Sighing, the nymph lowered her spoon and stared after Spidena who, off in the distance, out of earshot, was just starting to climb the first step toward the second floor.

“She’s an interesting little witch. But I hope you know that witches don’t like explaining how magic works to seebs or dodders in my experience. I think telling you about magic is as kind as she knows how to be.”

Ben paused at that bit of information. “She’s nicer to you.”

Daffy chuckled while slowly rising from her seat. “She doesn’t know how to be nice to men then. Just like you don’t know how to treat a woman.”

That hypothesis certainly threw Ben off, and he was in no way offended by Daffy’s remark. Women were as baffling as magic was to him… But he had to bring himself back to the present as Daffy drifted past him toward the stairs, prompting him to jog to catch up.

By the time they had just about reached the top of the stairs, they could hear Spidena calling out.

“Room service.”

“She already sounds annoyed,” Ben whispered to Daffy with no small amount of exasperation.

Daffy didn’t respond as squeaking hinges could be heard crying out.

“What do we have here?”

Ben could hear Otrig’s voice and he once again experienced a nauseating sweat breaking out along his brow.

“I’m here to deliver these complimentary drinks, as we are going to have to shut off the water to the bathrooms until this evening. There is an outhouse in the woods a short ways from the inn,” Spidena parroted the script Ben had given her.

The sounds of the men laughing and palms slapping shoulders echoed down the hall.

“What an accommodating wench you are!” Ostrig chortled.

“Uh oh,” Ben whispered in dread to himself, risking a peek around the corner.

At the very least he was glad to see that the tray in Spidena’s hands was empty—the greedy men inside already having snatched them up—but the look on her face quashed any notion of good fortune.

“Why don’t you come inside and keep us company? You aren’t the prettiest mare in the stable, but you beat these brutes.”

Ben watched in horror as Ostrig’s meaty palm and stubby fingers reached outside the room to caress Spidena’s cheek. He was relatively certain that the witch might literally bite him, but was terribly surprised when instead she used the empty tray in her hand and jabbed it smartly into Ostrig’s windpipe.

Ben sprinted down the hall without a second thought, then, upon seeing Ostrig’s purple face gasping for air, and his two goons starting to lumber toward Spidena, he grabbed her hand and dragged her away.

“Get… her… back… here!”

Ben could hear Ostrig’s strangled, breathless words follow them, and so they proceeded to dash down the stairs past Daffy who didn’t look all that bothered by the way things had progressed.

*

Daffy was the farthest thing in the world from bothered. She started laughing. At first just a charming giggle, but then as she watched the men lumbering down the hall in pursuit of the witch and Ben with their short leader still clutching his bruised throat, it turned into full-blown hysterics that had glittering tears running down her cheeks.

What an exciting day it was, and with those two new guests? Why, it could only keep getting better.