Clair DeLett hummed to herself as she closed up her shop for the day. She had sold three dresses this afternoon, which was quite a boon. Honestly, the shop was not doing well. She had moved to Avonburgh to take advantage of the cheap labor, but it just wasn’t enough.

When Rachael initially invited her, it was like a dream come true. The rules were strict but worked in her favor. People HAD to have good clothes or end up on the wrong end of a debtor contract. Money had poured in.

Especially the cloth armor orders.

The problem was that the orders had dropped off over the last couple of years. If it wasn’t for Charles, she would have already had to close her doors for good.

“Charles, I’m going to head home!” She called. “Make sure everything is ready for tomorrow, or I’ll flay your hide!”

Silence greeted her.

Clair sighed. The man was a fantastic tailor, dressmaker, and designer. She had been delighted when she first hired him, finding he learned everything at a prodigious rate and was not bad to look at.

That was the problem, of course. He could have run his own shop within a year. She couldn’t have that.

It was his fault. If he had just responded to her advances, she would not have been forced to sabotage him.

“Charles!” She snapped. “If I have to come back there, you’ll regret it!”

Clair felt irritation, warring with glee. She would have to punish him again… which she had discovered was a lot of fun!

She counseled herself not to get carried away again; he had almost died last time, after all; she went back to his work area.

Clair stepped through the doorway and felt a wave of dizziness overtake her.

Her stomach lurched, and she reached out a hand to support herself.

Clair’s hand passed through the wall like smoke, and she fell, feeling mud splash her face.

Blinking, she looked up, confused. Her shop faded away as she fought to clear her head. She was in her neighbor's yard? How had she got here?

“What have you done?” Her neighbor ran over to her, red in the face.

“What?” She asked, her head finally clearing. “I was in my workroom; how did I get out here?”

She lifted a hand to wipe the mud from her face and found she was holding something.

A torch flickered in her hand.

“Dan!” A panicked voice called, “Dan! We need help here!” Men burst out of the door in front of her, carrying an unconscious figure.

Her neighbor ran over to the men, healing energy flowing from his fingertips.

“Is he alive?” The man asked.

“Yes, just knocked out,” Dan said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“What happened?” The man asked.

“That bitch just set fire to my store, is what happened!” Dan pointed towards Clair.

Clair looked behind her, finding no one.

“What the hell is going on in this village?” Another voice called.

==============

Sargent Carston walked his regular beat with a light step. This was not a night to be out in the dark. Too many strange things were happening in Avonburgh at the moment. The guard captain had gathered everyone together at the start of the shift and laid down the law. No one was to shirk. Something was very wrong in Avonburgh, and they were going to see that it was fixed.

“Crack skulls, kick over rocks, whatever it takes!” The old man had said. “We have had a flurry of strange reports today. People burning each other’s businesses down. A baker merrily baked an entire batch of obscene loaves of bread, and no one can even find the way out of the village!”

“What do you mean?” A corporal, a new boy who wasn’t gonna last, asked with a laugh. “You just walk in any direction.”

“Try it,” The Captain said. “I did. All. Damn. Day.”

Carston had tried it as well. He walked carefully and slowly up the main street, and then he was in a side street, with no idea what had happened. One step was the main street; the next was the alley behind the tavern.

Hearing a commotion from around the corner, Carston drew his sword and crept forward.

He would not run; running would not give him time to decide if he even wanted to be there.

Peering around the corner, Carston felt his brows crease. He looked behind him, checking the street was clear, then looked forward once more.

Behind him… street.

In front of him… a clearing in a forest.

The clearing wasn’t empty. Audrey and Daisy were sitting there, cooking a bit of food over a campfire.

Carston had always wanted Daisy, but the stuck-up cow would never give him the time of day…

Something was going on, but he didn’t care. He stepped forward, and the street vanished. Cold pressed in around him as the smell of a frost-scaled forest filled his nose.

Carston smiled. He was out of the village, and he even had a bit of entertainment before he headed for somewhere.

He’d have a bit of fun with Daisy, get help for the village, and be a hero.

“What do we have here?” He said, striding forward and unbuckling his belt. “Two little runaways in need of a lesson!” He laughed as they squealed.

He took his time, getting his trousers off entirely before he stepped forward.

“SARGENT CARSTON!” A voice like thunder rang in his ears.

Daisy laughed as she dissolved along with the forest.

Looking around him, Carston saw himself in the middle of the market square, his trousers lying discarded behind him while everyone stared. The guard captain stood a few feet away.

“Huh?” Carston said dumbly.

“Get your naked arse out of my market square!” The Captain roared.

Carston scrambled away, pulling his pants on desperately while everyone laughed and pointed.

==============

Abby Hoffstetter sat in her office in the Guild House and felt the creeping tension gathering in her shoulders.

It had not been a good day.

Fifty-six upstanding citizens had been cautioned for disrobing in public. Fifty-six! Every one of them had claimed to believe they were at home at the time. At first, no one believed them, but the numbers kept rising.

Three businesses had been burned to the ground; two had been closed due to obscene merchandise, and the grocer had faithfully stacked his stall in the market full of rocks before attempting to eat one, resulting in shattered teeth.

No one seemed to be free from the strange events, even Abby.

She had done the same paperwork seven times, and the papers still sat on her desk undone.

Looking up as her door opened, she watch Mason shuffle in, drop his trousers and take a long piss on the floor.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Mason!” She snapped.

He blinked and looked around him in shock. His eyes darkened in rage.

“Enough!” He screamed, pulling up his trousers. “Enough, I say!” He walked over to her desk and slammed his hand down on it. “No more playing around! We are going to attack those upstarts, kill them all!”

“How?” Abby asked archly. “Have you forgotten we can’t seem to find a way out of town?”

“Dammit!” Mason huffed. “What do you suggest then?”

“I don’t know,” She snapped. “Maybe we should have listened to them.”

“Because of parlor tricks?” Mason sneered. “They haven’t harmed anyone. Have you noticed?”

“So?” Abby failed to see his point.

“So tomorrow morning, we are having a town meeting,” Mason said, smoothing his shirt with a determined expression. “A few well-placed punishments on the indentured servants will make them back off, I’m sure.”

“Are you sure?” Abby frowned. “We do not wish to actually harm them.”

“They can be healed at a later time,” Mason waved her worries aside. “We must show our metal as well as our disdain for these theatrics.

“If you are sure,” Abby said, feeling the knot of worry wind itself tighter in her stomach.

============

Lily sat on the gutter's edge and swung her legs back and forth. She stifled a yawn as she chomped down on another strip of dried meat. Below her swinging feet, the little meeting continued, oblivious of the pixie above them.

“Have you heard the latest plan by our fearless leader?” Carter Miller was smartly dressed, with only the faint sign of a slight belly disturbing the smooth lines of his suit.

“What now?” Evelyn sighed with exaggerated frustration. “Has he decided to pass an ordinance against breathing?”

There was a faint chuckle from the others.

“He plans to torture the slaves to discourage our visitors,” Miller frowned.

“Will it work?” Bailey’s bulky frame made the rickety table creak as he leaned on it.

“Even if it would,” Miller argued, pulling his jacket off and throwing it over the chair behind him, “Do we want to cross that line?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Bailey stated blandly.

“Because I don’t know the answer,” Miller admitted. “What I can say is that the options aren’t good.”

“What do you mean?” Evelyn Scott turned herself to face the others. “What options do we have?” She looked at the others, “If we move against Mason, could we win?”

“I didn’t mean our options, Eve,” Miller replied. “I mean that if Mason’s plan works and news spreads… who will ever come here again? If it doesn’t work… what will our visitors do in reprisal?”

“You have a plan, Miller,” Rachael Cooper spoke for the first time, her face hidden in a rich blue cloak. “Or you wouldn’t have called us here.”

“I do,” Miller took a deep breath, “I plan to speak at the meeting tomorrow. More than that, I plan to release all of my contracts publicly.”

“Doesn’t take much to make you fold, does it?” Rachael laughed. “It’s been a day.”

“I never liked this setup anyway,” Miller said. “I have nothing against any of you personally, but this is bad business.” He nodded, grabbed his jacket, and walked away.

“I think I’ll join him,” Evelyn said, brushing some dust off her dress as she stood. “The advantages of free labor are only short-term rewards. No new settlers will come here once word spreads, and it will.” She sniffed and bid them goodnight.

“Well?” Bailey asked his blond partner. “What do you say?”

“I’m strong here,” She laughed. “And I am not the type to give up power easily.”

“Strength can be gathered anywhere,” Bailey counseled. “But if our little scheme were to become public knowledge… we may find ourselves with nowhere else to go.”

“We have done nothing illegal, John,” Rachael said. “We merely used the setup for our own good.”

“Very well,” Bailey shook his head. “But I will be freeing my indentured workers tomorrow as well. Miller was right. Money is made by giving people what they want. Not by making them slaves.”

“I’ll think about it,” Rachael said with a grimace. “Walk me home?”

“Of course,” Bailey bowed and took her arm.

Lily fluttered away, passing silently and invisibly through the small helmet. Every now and again, she saw someone doing something interesting. She’d fly over, make a few changes, and then move on.

The sound of shouting drew her attention, and she zipped in through a gap in the roof of a small house.

Below her, a woman was berating a young boy. The woman was large, greasy, and frankly she smelled. Rich clothing draped her substantial frame, but she was sweating through it at the neck, thanks to a roaring fire.

“You stupid little shit!” She screamed at the cowering figure in front of her. “That table has been in my family for three generations!” She gestured to a spilled drink currently soaking an ornate side table.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” The boy was trying to shrink into himself as the woman raged. His arms were thin, shaking, and uncovered. The only clothes he had on were full of holes and stains.

“I should never have wasted the money on you!” The woman sneered, reaching over the mantel for a long, thin switch that took pride of place. “Take off your shirt, boy.” She pointed in front of the fire.

The boy wept as he pulled off his shirt, showing long, thin welts all over his back.

“Please, please, please,” He begged as the woman laughed.

Lily frowned and waived her hands; casting the illusion and confusion spells simultaneously was easier now.

The woman wavered for a second, then dropped the switch in the fireplace, grabbed the poker instead, and, with a broad smile, approached the side table.

“This’ll teach you to watch what you are doing!” She swung over and over again, the poker smashing the table into kindling as she laughed.

The boy scrambled away, eyes wide in fear.

“Sleep now, little one,” Lily flew down and whispered in his ear.

Yawning, the boy curled up in front of the fire, asleep before he even knew what was happening.

The woman finished with the table, so Lily had her start on the rest of the furniture. By the time she was done, nothing remained whole in the small house, and the woman was swaying in place.

Lily walked her back in front of the fire, casting the illusion of the boy as a battered and bleeding corpse.

“What, what happened?” The woman looked at the poker, the smashed room, and the corpse… and ran screaming from the house.

Lily snickered and flew out into the softly falling snow.

It was still early, and the morning was a long way off.

She had work to do.

The citizens of Avonburgh did not have a restful night. Every few minutes, another scream, wail, or crash would make them jerk awake, eyes darting around in horror.

Flames burned in the night as people lit fires for warmth, only to find they were burning down their own houses, holdings, or treasures. What was worse was that the ones who tried to flee the town would return shaking, talking of horrors, twisting roads that should be straight, or worse.

More and more as the night wore on, people noticed a pattern.

Only those who owned or rented indentured workers were suffering. Their neighbors passed the night unvisited by nightmares, calamities, or strange happenings.

By the time the Guild House opened in the morning, the queue of people coming to return their indentured workers was stretching around the block.

==========

“Well, that didn’t go as intended!” Abby snapped as Mason barred the door to the Guild House. “What is your next plan to get us all killed?”

“It’s a trick!” Mason insisted. “It has to be.”

A rock smashed the window next to him.

“It’s not a trick, you moron!” Rachael hissed, “It’s a revolt!”

“They wouldn’t dare!” Mason insisted, sweat rolling down his face. “Where are the damn guards?”

“Oh, there they are!” Rachael said, peering through a window.

“Are they coming?” Abby asked, hopefully.

“I don’t think that likely,” Rachael said lightly, “They are hanging from a tree around the corner.”

“What?” Abby shrieked.

“And I am officially done,” Rachael said. “Bailey was right; this is no longer worth the risk.”

“You are trapped here, the same as us!” Mason snarled.

“No, I don’t think so,” Rachael said smugly as she grabbed one of her earrings and broke it. Abby yelped as the woman vanished, only to fade back into sight moments later, frowning.

“Ah, of course,” She sighed and pulled a roll of documents from her storage. She tossed them on the fire with a flourish. “Happy now?”

“Who are you talking to?” Abby hissed.

“Them, obviously,” Rachael took the other earring in hand, then paused as if listening to someone only she could hear. “Thank you,” She said, smashed the earring, and vanished again.

“Get upstairs,” Mason yelled, “I can’t hold this door for much longer.”

“I won’t leave you,” Abby insisted.

“You don’t have a choice!” Mason said. “They will kill us both!”

“Actually, you do,” Lily said, appearing in a chair behind the counter. “You can always just give the contracts up.” She smiled warmly at the two remaining council members. “Without them, leaving is still possible.”

“Yes!” Abby said instantly, “We agree!”

“No!” Mason snapped. “I will not give in to a group of damnable outsiders!”

“Group?” Lily laughed. “This is all just me!” She leaned forward, her smile becoming colder, wider, and deeply unsettling. “The others will come along if you fail to take this final option.”

Abby looked back and forth between Mason and Lily.

“I’m sorry, Mason,” Abby wept as she tossed the remaining contracts on the fire.

“Damn you!” Mason snapped, “It’s done. Now leave us alone!”

The banging on the door continued.

“You said you would stop!” Abby turned to Lily.

“I have,” Lily shrugged. “I didn’t make them want to lynch you… you did.”

“Save us!” Abby begged. “We can still be of use to you!”

“Not my job,” Lily said as she started to fade away. “I suggest you both run; I believe they just found a battering ram.”

==========

“This may have gotten slightly out of hand,” Bert admitted as he and Bell watched the fires begin to spread through the small village.

“Meh,” Bell shrugged. “They made their choices,” She grinned. “Lily did well.”

“Remind me never to piss her off,” Bert said, watching the roving bands of freed slaves searching the little hamlet for their friends and relatives.

“I think we should probably get moving,” Bell said. “Eventually, they are going to want to come after us as well.”

“Wish we could have found a lead on the ruins,” Bert sighed.

“We’ll find something,” Bell said, leaning against him. “We always do.”

They watched the fires for a few more minutes while they waited for Lily to return.

Once the exhausted pixie was safely on board, the Waystation started to roll away.

A few days later, the survivors began to reach the nearby villages, and the rumors began to spread.

All over the region, bowls of milk and honey were put out on doorsteps, candles burned in windows, and whispers passed from village to village.

The details changed, were exaggerated, or forgotten, but the message remained the same.

It never pays to deny the Fae.