Acquaintances, pt 4

They moved to a large back room that someone had sprinkled with couches and settees and filled with blaring music and flashing lights. There were all manner of strange people dancing everywhere, most of them with drink in hand. The air was acrid, it smelled a bit like licking a battery. The walls were clad in art, some of it quite disturbing, some highly abstract and some depicting things or places that Charlie recognised vaguely. He felt the rhythm try to ensnare his limbs, but they suddenly felt so heavy. He wanted to dance, but instead he sagged down onto a couch, clutching his beer with both hands. Around him, people slithered and moved as in a trance.

Rita brought people to where he was sitting, introducing him to quite a lot of the assembled ladies and gentlemen, but he found that he forgot their names almost instantly. It was all just too much to take in. One person had green skin like a frog, another had eyes without whites, completely black, some looked monstrous, and some were the most beautiful people Charlie had ever seen. Most of them were clothed in extravagant attire, or something that didn't look like clothes at all. One person seemed to be dressed in a suit of armour made of soda pop cans. Someone else had something very translucent on, and had a loud voice that could always be heard over the din, no matter how far away from Charlie.

He slowly began to drift off, exhaustion and alcohol taking over his body and mind. The lights flashed, and he saw a red devil dancing with an angel. The drums boomed, and he saw a wolf dancing with a deer. Flash. A knight with his sword drawn. Boom. A demon with two heads. Flash. They followed him into his dreams, chasing each other through a garden maze. Boom. Round and round they went, fireworks lighting their way.

When Charlie woke up, a woman draped in layer upon layer of silk was standing in the middle of the room, telling a story. Daylight seeped in through shuttered windows. Someone had taken his beer.

"Away, foul beast! He brandished his sword, but the raven stood fast, perched atop the broken body of Azalea. He made to move closer, to reclaim his love, and the raven turned its one eye toward him. Prearis was suddenly overcome with guilt. The Singing Sword felt a thousand times heavier, his Helmet of Lucidity suddenly constricting. Fighting for breath, he dropped his sword and threw off his helmet. And thusly disarmed and unprotected he was beset upon by the raven, now a black streak of lightning, snatching his eyes and his tongue. The story, I am sad to say, does not end here. It is said that Prearis still wanders the Hedge, now and always following the flowery scent of his true love, searching for her body to be united in the life after this, and woe anyone who would stand in his way, for he will steal their voice and their sight so that they may suffer as he, forevermore."

The men and women around the storyteller applauded. It seemed odd to Charlie that a civilised group of adults, even if they weren't necessarily human, would be entertained by ghost stories. Then it struck him that maybe it wasn't a story. Maybe it was the truth. The storyteller settled down on a couch, and they all began talking, perhaps a dozen all counted. Not many had stayed since last night, or indeed maybe none. Charlie didn't recognise anyone. When he thought about it, he wasn't sure he could remember exactly what Tara looked like, or Rita for that matter. The day before seemed a lifetime long and ages ago. He had seen so much and was still trying to make sense of half of it. His mind was a jumble.

"It's Charlie, right?" someone said. "Do you have any new stories for us?"

Before he knew it, Charlie was talking. His thoughts just spilled out of his mouth, but he was still confused. There were blanks.

"There was a child once. I don't remember his name, what was it?"

"Felix?" a voice ventured.

"Yes. Good. Felix was a good boy. He never caused any trouble, but trouble had a way of finding him. There was this one time I remember, there had been a raffle at school, and Felix won. He often had that kind of luck, in games of chance. The prize was so lovely, it was a glass figurine, a-uh... It was a small..."

"Bird?"

"A cat?"

"Yes, a cat. This cat had many different colours, the tail was white and the eyes were yellow, but the body was a kind of deep azure, almost hidden within the glass. Felix wondered if that was simply the natural colour of glass he was seeing or if someone had tinted it that way, in some ingenious way using some chemical process that one could learn. He showed it to all of his friends. He bragged about it. He couldn't wait to show his parents what a brilliant prize he had won. On his way home, Felix came upon a... an old..."

"Dog!"

"No, a man, of course!"

"A witch?"

"I don't... Did someone say dog? I think it was a dog. The dog was barking, and Felix was scared. He had to take the long way around to get to his house, and that took him through a garden. But the garden was no good either, there was a..."

"Another dog?"

"A bully."

"Here's where the witch comes in!"

"No, bully. Yes, it was a group of bullies. Felix didn't want them to take his glass cat, so he came up with a plan. There was a big tree that had a long branch that stretched all the way over the street. If he could climb into the tree and over that branch, he would make it to safety. His cat would be safe. So he climbed the tree. The trunk was easy climbing, and the bullies didn't notice him. They were busy playing, or screwing with some other kid, I don't remember.

"The point is, Felix was up in this tree. The branch was thinner than he'd thought, and he was afraid it'd break under his weight. There was a noise like something cracking, he was sure he was going to fall. And he almost did, he scrambled to keep his balance on that branch, crawling along it. And when he did, he got the feeling that something dropped out of his pocket. He panicked and his hand went into his pocket without thinking. The cat was still there, but now he really lost his balance, and with only his left hand holding on to the branch, he fell. Right down on the street, where he was hit by a car.

"The doctors said later that the fall hadn't broken his leg, it was the car. It was crushed under the wheels. Felix's father, who drove the car, blamed himself. If he hadn't decided to come home early, he had said, then he hadn't crushed Felix's leg. Felix knew better. Felix knew that if he hadn't climbed that tree, if the dog hadn't scared him, and if he hadn't won that cat, he would still be out playing instead of being confined to his bed for months. So he lay there, staring at that damned cat that was still somehow in one piece, sitting triumphantly on a bookshelf, and Felix swore never to trust his luck again."

To Charlie's surprise, his jumbled thoughts were met with applause. Everyone was smiling, and went on to analyse the story amongst themselves, picking it apart and talking about the interactive elements. As if that was something Charlie had done on purpose. Charlie stayed lost in thought for the duration. He could still feel the weight of the wheel on his leg, and the pain as it seemed to explode. He had never stopped hating that fucking cat.

Acquaintances, pt 3

"Hey, Charlie." Rita was at his side, smiling. "Tara found you, huh? She's good at finding newbies."

"Rita." Charlie was relieved to see a familiar face. "Where are the others?"

"They wouldn't be caught dead here, it's boring! I dunno why I came, I guess I was just kinda looking to meet some people, or something. So far it's a dud. All this stuff is way over my head."

"Rita, have you seen Braggart?" Tara asked.

"Speak of the devil!" someone bellowed, making Charlie jump with shock. "Whoa, easy there. Your friends are always so skittish, Tara. Is that a new face?"

"Braggart, this is Charlie. He is new."

Charlie turned around and saw a large man with the biggest smile he'd ever seen. It was uncomfortably big and seemed to have an undertone of violence. Of course, it might just be a smile. Charlie understood that he could be imagining things; maybe he was indeed skittish. The rest of the large man was dressed in a three-piece suit that looked to be weaved of silver strands. From certain angles, it caught the light and nearly blinded you. Otherwise, it seemed to have a phantasmal sheen about it, like it just might be its own source of light. Or perhaps the light emanated from Braggart himself.

"Charlie, this is-"

"No, allow me!" Braggart exclaimed, his smile growing impossibly wider. "I am King Braggart of the Antler Crown, King of the Emerald Court, Gilded Aspirant of the Sacred Band of the Golden Standard, Shatterer of Ivy Bonds and Restorer of the Fortress Elemental," he said, punctuating his list of titles with raucous laughter. Rita giggled as if to a joke she couldn't get enough of. Charlie noted that Tara's face didn't change one bit. His own face flushed when her eyes flicked to meet his before returning to King Braggart.

"Charlie here seems to have forgotten all about his time in Arcadia." She looked to him for confirmation.

"Uh. Arcadia? If that's, yeah, I mean, I just remember walking into a forest, and then the next thing I know I'm being chased by this monster, a, uh."

"Ravager," Rita offered. "And that's when we found him." The four of them started walking together, the king laying his hand on Rita's shoulder in a fatherly fashion.

"Interesting. So he's of no use to the Leaden Mirror then. I'd say he has no way to move but forward. The question is how. Let's go have a drink, Charlie! You look like you could use one."

"No kidding, I'm parched."

A short walk later they were settled comfortably in a booth at a quaint pub with a colourful name. Charlie had already downed a cold frothy beer and was making short work of another when he became aware of the others talking. When he looked up, Tara left them and went to sit at the bar, fingering a black bird pendant. Before Charlie could get a handle on what was happening, Braggart fixed him with what seemed like an uncharacteristically solemn stare.

"What are you feeling, Charlie?"

It seemed a very peculiar question, but judging by the look on Rita's face it was a very important one. Charlie thought back and realized it had been an emotionally exhausting day. He'd never been more afraid in his life than he'd been in the last few hours. He'd also been sobbing like a child. Carefully searching within him after the concentrated knot of emotion he had accidentally loosened then, he felt it was now wound tight, but waiting to burst out of his chest at any given moment. It wasn't fear. He felt safe, even with a giant who called himself king and a girl made of lacquered wood. The sudden grief for losing his old life was oddly absent. He wondered for a second whether he was still in shock, but there was an undeniably profound comfort in the thought that there was no turning back. Now that he'd had some time to think and not just react, he found he didn't really want to think about the university. Instead, something else was vying for his attention, something bubbling up to the surface, a movement like butterflies flapping, something just on the edge of anxiousness.

"I'm... curious." This seemed to catch the king's attention. "I want to know how all of this works, what's keeping it together. I'm a man of science, and today I've seen things that can only be described as magic. It's titillating. I want... more, I suppose. I have a thirst for more." He looked from face to face. "And I think I'd like to get to know you all better."

"I think there'll be plenty of time for that, boy. You're welcome to join my court. We'll set you up with a new identity, some money, get you started on a new life, keep you safe. In return, you will come to the court's aid when we call."

"That's... That sounds good."

"Do you swear fealty to the Spring Court, Charlie?"

"I swear." They shook hands, and in that moment something stirred, some force that was very familiar to Charlie, as if the world aligned itself around their handshake. He knew then, and the knowledge came from his heart, as natural as in a dream, that he had just made an unbreakable oath.

Recommended listening

Just rediscovered this song. I think it fits perfectly.

Acquaintances, pt 2

The thing that looked like Charles Holcombe frowned, and stood up. Terror gripped Charlie, and he ran, wondering what the thing might be capable of. If there was anything he'd learned today, it was to not trust appearances. He quickly made his way back to the park, hoping the others would still be there. Hoping against hope that the impostor wouldn't follow.

He found himself cowering behind a tree in the middle of the park, feeling exposed, looking over his shoulder. Somehow he could feel the impostor's eyes, its gaze on his neck. Gertrude and the others were nowhere to be seen. Charlie was alone in a world that had become alien to him. In a world with no place for him.

The next instant, he was fighting for breath, sagging down onto his knees, his vision blurring. He only caught on when he felt the tears roll down his face and heard himself sobbing. There was no stopping it, he had somehow tapped into an endless source of raw emotion that had laid dormant somewhere deep in his gut.

What was he going to do? Where would he go? His old life was gone, the Charlie he knew might as well be dead. There was nothing for him here anymore.

"Hey. It's going to be all right."

He looked up. Standing over him, the sun casting a halo around her face, was a girl. She offered him a bone white hand. He grasped it, still hulking. It was cool to the touch, but not unpleasantly cold, like a stone in the shade on a sunny day. She helped him stand, and with the sun out of his eyes he could see her face.

"You're a..."

"A Changeling. Gertrude told me you'd be here."

"Oh. I see. But..." Her face was a painted and polished mask. The glaze had peeled off under her eyes, where he could make out finely worked wood. The nose was extremely delicate, and he could just make out hairline gaps around her mouth that shifted as she spoke, an intricate mechanism that folded in on itself in sections. He was immediately taken in, as much by her superficial beauty as the fascinating design and workmanship. She was a living wooden doll. He wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands and sniffed. "Uh... This is going to sound stupid, but... Have we met before?"

"Let's not dwell on the past. What's your name?"

"Charlie."

"I'm Tara. Follow me, Charlie."

They walked through town, past the university towards the south end of Harmon. Charlie caught himself inspecting every minute detail of the doll woman. Tara had a fascinating gait. It was so consistent, as if it were choreographed or programmed, more like a dancer mimicking a walk than a person walking. He felt a sudden impulse to push her, just to see if she would regain her balance or continue her walk cycle lying on her side.

"I should introduce you to the courts." She was suddenly looking at him, holding his gaze firmly. Her eyes were distinctly human. "You're a Changeling now. You should become acquainted with Changeling society."

"Changeling..."

"Yes. Did Gertrude tell you about the courts?"

"No."

"Our society is divided into four courts, one for each season. I am a member of the Spring court."

"What does that mean? Is a court like a political party or something?"

"Not quite. One's court is part of one's identity, as well as being the ruling faction during its season."

"Sounds... interesting. Are all the courts represented in Harmon?"

"If we didn't have a Summer court, who would rule during summer?"

"Of course."

"As you can see, all four courts are needed for a Changeling society to function."

"How many Changelings are there in Harmon?"

"No one is keeping count. Maybe a hundred or so. We're here." They were in a back alley. A waiter sat slumped on a loading dock, smoking a cigarette. Apart from the three of them, the place looked deserted.

"Where?"

She motioned for him to follow and opened a door leading into a big building to their right. They went inside and walked through a dimly lit hallway with a few doors on either side, a flight of stairs down into a dark cellar, and a set of swinging double doors at the end. Charlie was beginning to wonder why he trusted Tara. She said she'd spoken to Gertrude and the others, but where were they? Gertrude had mentioned some other side, some sort of enemies. What if Tara was one of those, whoever they were? He must have been too fascinated by her to critically consider what he was doing. He was probably making a huge mistake.

"They are just through here," she said.

Charlie didn't bother asking who. He wasn't sure he'd get a straight answer anyway. She pushed the double doors open and they came out in a conference hall dotted with tables where people were conversing amicably. At least they seemed like people at first glance. Then Charlie saw a man with horns, a woman enveloped in fire, a giant made of stone, and that none of the people in the room were human. They were all Changelings.

Acquaintances, pt 1

They showed him the park. The grove was there, but it looked a lot less intimidating. It was just a few trees, nothing out of the ordinary. The rest of Harmon was just as Charlie remembered it. On their way to St Abraham Park, they'd passed the train station, almost got run over by a few trams when crossing the street, and then his heart had leapt when he saw the clock tower of the university. He was still looking longingly towards it across the park when he noticed that something was off. He looked around. The leaves were yellowing. It was autumn. Last time he had been here, it had been high summer. He remembered deciding to stay over the holiday to get better acquainted with the school grounds and preparing his courses.

"I've been gone for months." The other three avoided his gaze, even Julian, who had kept a watchful eye on him ever since they reached town. "You knew?"

"Man, I'm sorry. You probably been gone longer than that. How old are you?"

"31, why?"

"Rita?" She took a compact out of her pocket and handed it to Julian, who gave it to Charlie. Gertrude, back to her butterfly self, winced and turned away.

Frowning, Charlie opened the compact. "Wha- Fuck." Staring back at him from within the tiny mirror was some decrepit parody of himself, an old man with wrinkles criss-crossing his face. His hair was still black, but longer and unkempt. His nose and oddly hairless chin jutted out more than usual. His whole appearence was jagged and worn. He looked like a walking warzone. Charlie had become a completely different person. He didn't know who he was anymore, but one thing he knew for sure. This kind of change didn't happen in a few months.

"They'll wonder where I am."

"Who?"

"My colleagues, at the university, I have to go there and tell them I'm OK, that I'm alive, I've been missing for years, they probably think I'm dead! Oh shit. Mom."

"Charlie..."

"She calls me every week, she must be so worried!"

"Charlie, you can't go back."

"I have to find a phone. Do you guys have change? I'll pay you back."

"Listen to her, man!" Someone grabbed him by the shoulder. It was Julian. Gertrude was standing next to him.

"Charlie, they leave someone else. To take your place, you've been... exchanged. Like the bogeyman, you know how they tell you when you're a kid, where they would scare you and tell you the bogeyman would come and take you? It's true. It happens. That's pretty much what happened to all of us. And with each of us, they leave someone, something, behind. Something that looks just like you, talks just like you. So that no one misses you, no one will come looking."

"That's impossible."

"Charlie-"

"No, enough, fine! I'll go there myself, what time is it? Never mind, there's the tower. OK, if I hurry I can catch them between classes." He walked off, pushing every doubt and nagging question to the back of his mind, but they kept popping back up. Why hadn't anyone come for him? They must have, but how would they find him? Not even he knew where he'd been. And for how long would they keep searching? How long had it been? He looked at least 20 years older. His heart sank when he thought of the face in the mirror. All the time he had lost, all the things he could have accomplished, should have accomplished by now.

He stalked across the school grounds and past the gymnasium to the administrative building. He pulled open the front doors and was right on the doorstep when someone called his name.

"Charles Holcombe! Where do you think you're going, you rascal?"

It was a woman's voice he didn't recognize, and he couldn't place the source. The reception was milling with people, students queuing for exam results and teachers pushing past him to get to their next class. Someone else spoke, right next to his ear.

"What you got for me, Mary?"

One of the teachers turned away from the door and walked over to the receptionist's desk. He leaned over the counter to speak with a blonde girl. Mary. Charlie remembered her now. She had offered to show him around when he first got here. He looked at the man again, and his stomach turned. It was him. It was someone wearing his clothes, looking exactly like he had done when he moved to Harmon, as if no time had passed at all. He even spoke like him, in his voice. It was Charlie's job, Charlie's life. Charlie felt like he was in free-fall, he felt sick. He hurried out, afraid someone would see him, afraid someone would notice that his sword and gun were real.

Just as the doors closed behind him, he looked back. For some inconceivable reason, Charlie was compelled to look back. And the Charles Holcombe stared him straight in the eyes through the glass doors. Charlie saw a spark of recognition in its eyes. It knew.

Out of the Hedge, pt 4

"My way? My way where?"

"Back to the real world," Gertrude explained.

"This is real too!"

"Geez, I know, Rita, I'm just explaining so Charlie understands."

"Actually, I remember where I live."

"Really? But you have amnesia!"

"Rita!"

"What, he totally does!" She pouted, turned her back, crossed her arms and stomped off demonstratively, but only a few steps, not really putting any distance between them.

"Anyway," Charlie said, breaking in. "Like I said, I just don't know what I'm doing here, I never said I forgot who I am or where I live. I mean, I did tell you my name. Last thing I remember, I was in St Abraham Park, and there was this grove of trees..."

"Abby park? That's-"

"Rita, shush, he's remembering something."

"Yeah. Yeah... I went to the park, I mean, I just moved here, so I was just kind of exploring, but there was a grove of trees that I recognized from somewhere. I don't know that I ever saw them before, they just seemed so familiar. I remember the sun was up high, it was lunchtime, and the trees, there were just maybe four or five in the middle of this huge lawn, but they cast this really dense shadow. It was like a pitch black shade on the ground in there. I remember thinking it felt so weird, and so familiar, it felt... so out of place."

"Did... did you go in?" Gertrude whispered, and it was only then that Charlie noticed he was speaking in hushed tones himself.

"Yeah. And I don't remember anything after that."

For the first time since he'd met them, the three fell silent. Julian sniffed the air and scanned the forest around them. Rita stared at her feet. Gertrude's eyes went unfocused, looking at a point somewhere through Charlie's head. As he should have known, Rita was the first to speak.

"I know where Abby park is, we can take you!"

"What? I never agreed to babysitting."

"She's right, Julian, we have to help him. Plus, he's so close, and it's on the way."

"And then what? No. This is a bad idea."

"Come on, would you rather he went to the other side? Because if we don't bring him back, they will. Or if he gets lost again, and..."

Julian sighed. "Fine. If he tries something, I'll break his neck." Charlie had the feeling it wouldn't be the first time.

"Then it's settled."

"Yay!"

They set off alongside a wide trail that looked wheel-worn. The sun was out again, which made no sense to Charlie, but he refrained from bringing it up since everything he said only garnered strange looks. Julian led the way, keeping them off the trail itself, but with his eyes trained on it at all times.

"Why don't we walk on the trail instead?" asked Charlie as he kicked a root in revenge for stubbing his toe on it. "Ow."

"Julian says it's bad luck," Rita answered, slightly out of breath.

"Oh." He let it rest. In the short time he'd observed them, Charlie had noticed that they all seemed to have their own little fixations. Rita, who seemed otherwise very friendly, had ignored his offered hand twice, first when he tried to shake hands and later when she had tripped and fallen and he tried to help her up. Julian trusted no one and nothing, least of which the trail they were following. After his own run-in with the ravager, Charlie couldn't blame him. Gertrude stopped approximately every 100 meters to turn ponderously around full circle while the others waited. Charlie thought to himself that having one of these people in a class would have driven his colleagues back at the university insane inside a week, but he didn't mind at all. In fact, he found their antics oddly soothing. He felt safe with them.

Strangely, the trail ended in the middle of an alley. Charlie started. He had been so focused on not being tripped by protruding roots that he hadn't noticed the forest receding, but now when he looked back it was on the horizon. He followed the others through a large stone archway, and now he heard the cars going by, people yelling, a dog barking. He took in the atmosphere and filtered out Gertrude and Julian.

"Was this open?" she said.

"I saw Turner go through ahead of us," he reassured her.

"Hey guys, I never even noticed us getting out of the woods." Charlie pointed back, and then turned to look down his own index finger through the archway at an inner yard with an outdoor cafe where people appeared to be having tea. There were buildings all around, and no forest or horizon in sight. Charlie quickly brought his hand back down, but forgot to close his mouth.

"What the- Move! What are you doing?"

Someone grabbed him and pulled him further down the alley, where he fell flat on his back.

"Julian, he didn't know, he's a newbie! And look, it's closed now!"

Sprawled on the ground, Charlie looked up at the sky framed by brick walls rising towards it. The goat entered his field of vision, bent down and scowled at him. Then he left, leaving Charlie to pick himself up. He brushed off some dirt, and then realized what he was wearing.

"Oh." Then he looked at the others, heading out onto a busy street. "Wait! You can't go out there!" They stopped on the sidewalk to turn back and face him, and he caught up. "People will go nuts, I mean, you guys don't exactly blend in."

"See?" said Rita and pointed out this apparently ludicrous behaviour to the others.

"So maybe he is new," Julian conceded grudgingly.

"Charlie, it's alright, they don't see what you see. Look." Gertrude indicated a few passers-by, and sure enough, they didn't as much as glance at her. "They can't see what we really look like, they only see the mask. Here, I'll show you."

Gertrude took a breath, closed her eyes and wiped her hand over her face. Suddenly, where an alien butterfly girl had stood, was a lanky and rather ordinary looking 20-something with dyed blue hair. She had colourful tattoos down her forearms where her wings had been, and now that he thought about it, she'd always worn those dark leather jeans, t-shirt and chains, he had just been too focused on the rest of her appearance to notice. She just looked like she was really into punk. Or maybe in a band.

Now that he had a human comparison, he looked at the other two, who were still in their non-human forms, and connected the dots. Julian was barechested and his mask most likely had a goatee. Drummer? Rita was curvy, extrovert and would probably make an attractive human. Lead singer?

"Hey, you guys need a bass player?"

"Aw hell no! He is not joining the band!"

"Haha, I'm joking, Julian, I don't play."

For a split second, they just stared at him. Then they laughed.

"Shit, man, you had me. Hey, maybe you're alright." Julian slapped Charlie on the shoulder and walked past him, leaving the girls wide-eyed in disbelief.

Out of the Hedge, pt 3

The staff swung upwards with such force that he could barely hold on even with both hands. His adrenaline-addled brain had time to think that his arms would just be ripped out of their sockets, leaving the rest of him to be cleaved in two by the monstrous wolf. Then he finally followed the staff into the treetops where someone held Charlie around his waist and draped him unceremoniously over a sturdy branch, knocking the wind out of him.

"You OK? He seems OK," someone said in a low gravelly voice. Charlie tried to breathe and get his bearings. He wanted to make sure he knew which way was down before he moved. Propping himself up against the treetrunk, he looked around and saw three people. Deformed, strange people. One had blue skin and resembled a butterfly, down to the little antennae and wings protruding from his or her arms. Charlie couldn't tell if it was male or female. The second one was definitely female, with skin like a birch sapling and a multitude of flowers growing from her head and down her neck. The third looked like a big grey goat, the only mostly human features being his furclad torso and arms. He was handing the staff, which Charlie could now see was a highly polished baton, to the butterfly. They all seemed rather young, and they were all smiling.

"That ravager almost had you, but you're a pretty good runner," said the butterfly, and now Charlie could hear she was a she.

"Nah," the flower teased. "It did have a limp."

"I know, I wasn't going to say anything!" the butterfly said, and then the three of them burst into heartfelt laughter. And Charlie laughed too, because he was alive.

Back on solid ground, the goat handed Charlie the gun.

"You dropped this," he said and grinned, which looked odd on a goat's face. Charlie mumbled something in thanks, and then looked back and forth between the three, wondering when exactly he'd fallen through the rabbit hole. Was he going crazy? These people couldn't actually look this way, he had to be hallucinating. And that monster, had that been real? Now that it wasn't standing right in front of him, he could scarcely believe it hadn't been a dream.

"He's a newbie!" the flower suddenly said.

"Rita-" the butterfly started.

"What? It's obvious, look, he's staring at us."

"And he obviously never dealt with a ravager before," the goat chimed in. "He had a gun, should have just turned around and shot it."

"Come on, I remember you running a lot," said the butterfly.

"Just saying."

Charlie felt left out of a conversation of which he couldn't make heads nor tails, even though it somehow concerned him.

"I'm sorry, new to what?" he asked. Six eyes turned to him.

"Um," said the butterfly. "I'm not sure how to explain this..."

"I do!" the flower, Rita, exclaimed. "You just got away from the bad Fae, right? You're on your way back to the human world, right? So now you have to-"

"Wait, wait, stop. Who's Fay, and... excuse me, may I?" He held out his hand towards the goat's shoulder. The goat shrugged, and Charlie carefully stroked the fur. "Holy shit, it's real."

"Great, he's hopeless."

"He's just a newb!"

"Shut up, both of you!" The butterfly was fuming. "This is very important! We could screw him up if we don't do this right!"

The goat shrugged again, and Rita pulled a face. The butterfly turned to Charlie, and tried on a smile.

"Hi. I'm Gertrude, this is Rita and Julian. What's your name?"

"I'm Charlie." They shook hands. Her skin was very dry.

"Hi Charlie. We're just like you. We were all kidnapped and brought to some weird place, just like you, and then we managed to get out of there, some of us together, like Rita and I, and some of us on our own, like Julian here. Oh that's right, was there anyone else with you that you want to go back and help?"

Charlie must have looked puzzled, because he was.

"I mean, were you alone when you got out?" She spoke in soft sing-song tones, as if speaking to a child.

"I uh... I have no idea what you're talking about."

"It's OK if you don't want to talk about it. In fact, we don't talk much about our time in Faerie either. We just prefer to talk about other stuff."

"No, I mean, I don't know what I'm doing here, I was just suddenly here with these clothes and the gun, and I don't understand how I got here. I don't understand, I don't, it's, I don't know..." His face was hot.

"He has amnesia!"

"Rita, shut up." Gertrude looked concerned. "Well. Um, if you really don't remember..."

"Then how's he supposed to find his way?" Julian finished.