Beauty and the Werewolf

“A — hundred and twenty?” That was — that was a truly insane number. Why would he need so many? She could only gape at him.

“More or less. I’m not exactly sure, really. You see, when things needed doing and weren’t getting done, I just rested up for a few days and summoned some more.” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, then pushed his glasses back up again with one finger. “It wasn’t all at once. I started doing it just after my father died because the servants kept leaving. Didn’t like Eric being in charge, you see.”

Oh, hold back my surprise. That was uncharitable, and she knew it, but she couldn’t help it.

He shrugged, clearly unable to understand why he had been deserted. And there was some hurt there; she got the feeling he felt betrayed. “I suppose all they knew was that he had been a servant, and now he’d got above himself. They couldn’t imagine why a fellow servant suddenly got put in charge of everything.”

I rather doubt that. You can’t hide anything from the servants. Even if no one outside the Manor knew he was your kin, it was certainly old news to them. Still, what he said could have some truth to it. It was entirely possible that the rest of the servants had resented Eric all along. Elevating him to Steward in fact if not in name could have just brought all that to a head.

Unexpectedly, she found herself pitying the man. No wonder he had an attitude…if he’d been hidden by the Old Duke rather than acknowledged, and was snubbed by those who thought he was only a servant, but resented by those who were below him, well…

I can’t say my temper would be sweet.

“Anyway, I’d learned and mastered the spell to summon these creatures. The Godmother approved of my doing so, and supervised me the first six months, so I just started replacing the servants who left. Then the servants that remained got unsettled by the invisible ones, and started leaving, too.” He looked as if his head was paining him, and she could certainly sympathize there. “I can’t really blame them for being unsettled, but I would have thought they would at least give it a trial. It’s not that hard to get used to them, and they can’t hurt you. Well, look at you! You’ve not gotten all upset about being around them! Not even two days here, and you’re already talking with them!”

She choked down what she was thinking — that he had to be particularly dense when it came to human nature to think that she was going to have a typical reaction to being surrounded by floating objects borne by things unseen. If such a thing had happened in her household, the servants would have left without collecting their possessions. And they were loyal to her!

“Anyway, I just kept summoning until there seemed to be enough of them to get everything done. So will you talk to them for me?” he repeated, looking at her with big, pleading eyes over the rim of his spectacles. “Please?”

She sighed. How could she possibly say no?

Besides, what else have I to do?

“All right,” she agreed.

Within an hour, she realized that she had taken on something far more time-consuming than she had thought, as she settled down with Verte and Sapphire to figure out what, exactly, she could do.

This is going to be a great deal more complicated than I thought possible. In fact…I am beginning to wish Eric was right.

Just to begin with, Sebastian had underestimated the number of creatures he had summoned.

Either that, or they are breeding. Or bringing friends and relations.

There were well over two hundred just associated with the house and grounds. She was ready to pull out every hair on her head in frustration. “How many, exactly?” she asked Verte, aghast.

“216” came the prompt reply. A headache immediately started just behind her eyes. How would she ever come up with names for all of them? Not to mention organizing —

But no — she was making work for herself that she didn’t need to.

Wait, they are already organized. Sebastian said he just conjured up one when things needed doing. And since the household is running smoothly with minor problems like making too much food, then they must have organized themselves.

That meant that there might only be a fraction that were more than Sebastian thought them to be. “How many of them are as clever as you and Sapphire and Thyme, Verte?” she asked.

“43. Most very stupid.”

The headache started to fade, as she heard that number. That was more manageable. “So, most of you are just what Sebastian thought — very simple creatures that just do a single job. Like, oh, the animated broom in the tale of ‘The Sorcerer’s Lazy Apprentice.’”

Verte was smart enough to realize that was a question framed as a statement. “Yes.” Or rather “Y,” for Verte had also mastered abbreviations. Their own communication was getting easier with every passing hour.

“So the smart ones supervise the stupid ones?” she asked. That made sense; presumably they could see each other, and communicate, too.

“Yes.”

The headache faded to almost nothing. This was looking more promising. “I would imagine that all of the kitchen staff are smart ones,” she said, thinking out loud, but was pleased with Verte’s confirmation of that. “And most of the household staff. All of Sebastian’s, of course. What about Eric’s staff?”

“All stupid but one. Smart one hides.”

Aha. “You mean, ‘hides,’ as in keeps Eric from knowing it is smart?” she asked, thinking that if she were a smart invisible, that was what she would do. If he knew that they were intelligent, he’d begin ordering them to do a lot more.