'Fresh off the spit, sir,' intoned the servant. 'I do hope you like it tender. The meat is practically falling off the bone.'
I followed, catching the scent of a tantalizing variety of raw flesh. 'Coming, Newt? Or would you rather stay outside with Penelope?'
My broom had immediately taken it upon herself to scour the porch of every offensive speck and mote, no doubt left there for her by Soulless Gustav's considerate sorcery. Even for a cleaning implement, she could be terribly obsessive when it came to dust. She swept by Newt and hopped at him to get out of her way.
'I still say this is a trap,' grumbled the duck as he followed me inside.
The cabin was well lit by dozens of lamps, but not too bright even for my undead eyes. I'd never seen such exquisite tapestries and rugs. Then again, I'd never seen tapestries and rugs, save for the worn, utilitarian carpets of Fort Stalwart. I had an eye for stitching, and their quality was obvious. Had they been real and made by mortal hands, they would've taken years to craft. The one with an embroidered image of Soulless Gustav, standing tall and smugly grinning, was especially impressive. It was so vivid, it could be mistaken for the genuine article. Its eyes even seemed to follow us. It added a touch of dread to the cozy atmosphere. I admired the sorcerer's sense of style.
A banquet was set before us on a long table by the hearth. It was a wide table, but there wasn't an empty space. Soulless Gustav knew his guests. It was mostly meat, mostly raw or blood rare. A small bowl of fruit was present for appearance, and a loaf of fresh bread waited for Wyst. The food was all genuine, not illusion. A most thoughtfol importance as a phantom feast would sate our hunger without nourishment. Where Soulless Gustav found reality in this phantom realm was a mystery I didn't give much thought.
Gwurm and Newt warmed themselves by the hearth. I kept away from it and enjoyed the remaining chill of evening.
The servant gestured to a staircase. 'You'll find your sleeping accommodations upstairs. I'm certain they'll be to your liking, but should you need anything, please clap for me. Now unless you'll be needing me for anything ...'
'No. We're fine.' I noticed the tremendous crystal chandelier over our heads. It caught every beam of candlelight and reflected it in a cascade of colors.
The servant dismissed himself as Wyst returned from the stable. He seated himself beside the bread, folded his arms, and studied the loaf.
Gwurm prodded the roast boar with his fingers, which he then licked. Newt eyed the troll.
'Well? It's poisonous, isn't it? It has to be poisonous.'
Gwurm took a rib and sucked the meat off it. He rolled the flesh from cheek to cheek, poking it with his tongue while chewing. He shrugged, swallowed, and gobbled down the bone. 'Seems fine.' He sat and tore off the boar's snout. 'Excellent, just the proper chewiness.'
Newt turned his back to the table. 'I'm not eating any of it. If it's not poisoned, it's something worse. Your guts will probably rot away now.'
'Some things are worth the risk.' Gwurm swallowed a juicy red apple and an uncooked rabbit in one bite. He must've liked the two together because he tried an orange and hen combination next. It met with a satisfied grin.
'You're going to regret eating that,' muttered Newt.
'Probably,' said Gwurm. 'Boar gives me heartburn. Pass some of that goose over, would you, please?'
Newt perked up. 'Did you say goose?' He hopped onto the table and licked his bill over the succulent bird.
'You eat goose?' Gwurm stuck out his tongue.
'It's my second favorite.'
'But you're a duck.'
Newt closed his eyes and inhaled the goose's tempting aroma. 'A carnivorous duck.'
'Yes, but, well, it just doesn't seem right.'
'Birds eat birds every day.'
'Big birds eat little birds,' said Gwurm. 'That goose is twice your size.'
'And perfectly seared.' Newt smacked his bill. Demons are suspicious by nature but they're also easily tempted. He stood poised over the goose indecisively.
I did him a favor and helped him make up his mind. It was an inevitable decision anyway.
'Is that duck I smell?' I asked.
'Duck? Where?' He found his prey, a raw bird on a platter, and attacked. He tore off a wing and gulped it down.
Gwurm grimaced. 'Now that is definitely just wrong.'
Newt was far too busy tearing into his meal to bother with a curt response.
I took the bread and cut a thick slice that I offered to Wyst. He accepted it with a smile and passed a plate of raw turkey strips. We ate in silence, save for the crackle of the fire and the tearing and crunching of duck frenetically feasting upon duck.
'I'll say this for Soulless Gustav.' Newt belched. 'He knows how to treat a guest.'
'He's mad,' I said, 'not rude.'
Wyst excused himself. 'I want to be rested for tomorrow'
I didn't contradict him, but he wouldn't be facing Soulless Gustav. Not if I had any say in the matter. After he'd climbed the stairs, I clapped once.
'Yes, mistress?' The servant was just there suddenly. Not materializing from nothing. More like he'd always been there, just unnoticed.
'I'll need a bath drawn. And a change of clothes.'
I paused, expecting Newt to say something discouraging. He was too contented to bother with even a displeased glare.
My bath waited in a room on the first floor. Like the servant, the room seemed to have not been there before and yet perfectly in place. The long tub was filled with ice-cold water, just as I liked my baths. I stripped naked before the phantom and slid into the water. The servant pointed out the variety of soaps and perfumes and a wardrobe that should possess whatever clothes I needed. Then he was gone again, back to his unnoticed oblivion.
I didn't bathe often. I didn't really need to. My accursed nature did enough to keep me beautiful, but I enjoyed a nice, chilly bath every so often. It'd been too long since I'd had one. Not since I'd dipped myself in the lake the day Ghastly Edna had died.
The recollection made me smile. I missed Ghastly Edna, but she'd sent me to that lake with a purpose. I now knew that purpose. She'd known Wyst of the West would spy me, and that this would be laying the seeds of desire in his heart. Tonight would be her last gift to me.
I enjoyed my bath for an hour. I waited for the water to wrinkle my fingers. It didn't. It never did. I pulled myself from the tub and picked through the perfumed oils. They were all quite lovely, but none could match my own natural scent, a subtle mix of flowers and strawberries along with a new aroma: fresh bread. No doubt added by the magic because Wyst would like it.
I studied my form in a full-length mirror. I hadn't looked at myself, really looked, for a long time. I'd forgotten just how beautiful I was. My flawless, smooth skin was without a freckle. My figure was lean, yet blessed with the soft curves men wanted. My eyes sparkled. I was perfect, and even if a man's desires leaned toward blondes or short women, my curse made up for that.
I found exactly what I wanted in the wardrobe. The silky gown couldn't be more unwitchly. It was soft and sheer and hid little. I slipped it on and smiled, despite myself. Even if I couldn't be a mortal woman, it was nice to indulge in those pleasures I normally denied myself.
I wasn't quite ready to go upstairs yet. I crept outside. Both Newt and Gwurm sat by the fire and didn't notice. Penelope waited on the immaculate porch. She tilted to one side, then the other. Then floated a circle around me. She gave her approval with a hop and a twirl.
'Thank you.'
'So are you going to mate with him or eat him?'
The gray fox sat at the bottom of the steps.
