Chapter Thirty
Austin
“So, what are you doing, exactly?” Greggory asked from over the lip of the tool trunk Austin was digging through.
“Ah! Greggory!” Austin yowled as he slammed the lid closed.
Unfortunately, a few appendages fell out of the trunk and spilled into Austin’s lap.
It didn’t look great to keep a trunk of such appendages around, but he also had a cabinet drawer of just toes.
You never know what you’ll need in our line of work.
Austin glanced down at the tentacles lying in his lap then glanced up at Greggory.
He wasn’t sure how to answer him without mentally scarring the crypt keeper. “You don’t want to know.”
“I probably don’t,” Greggory laugh sheepishly. “I wanted to see if you knew where Hyacinth was, I can’t find her.”
“She’s supposed to be in Melody’s studio, knitting with Aggie, I think.” At least, that’s where he left her last. “Why?”
“Well, she wanted to know more about the Grove Witch, and I finally found the scroll talking about her. It’s a really fascinating tale.
A woman fell in love, but a jealous admirer of hers didn’t want to lose her, so he cursed her lover.
Should he ever kiss her, he’d turn into a tree.
Just like the admirer, he would only be able to stand aside and watch her from afar, never able to have her.
The woman not knowing her love had been cursed, upon next seeing him, ran up to give him a kiss.
He could never deny her and let her take his life.
He turns into this giant weeping willow.
And she spends eternity keeping him company under his branches.
” Greggory beamed, dancing from one foot to another as he explained the story.
Austin sat with his eyebrows up on top of his head.
“Oh.” Austin nodded like he understood the importance of the story.
Greggory snorted, “She said it sounded like the Grove Witch might be Sabine, her ghost. But I told her that couldn’t be, because this Grove Witch was later killed. But I couldn’t remember why, so I went digging.”
“And?” Austin glanced down, scooping up his pile of tentacles and sewing supplies. Greggory continued to explain from behind the chest while Austin turned his back on him. Instead, plucking at thread and loosening the attachment on the heavy appendage between his thighs.
“And!” Greggory cackled with mad delight.
Austin listened to his little feet slapping across the ground as Greggory paced through the lab.
“And I found it. The last known entry or tale of The Grove Witch. She was a popular figment in a lot of Old Fae lore. A spooky woman, grieving behind the weeping willow branches. They said if you pushed aside the branches and encountered her, she’d kiss you and steal your breath away.
Then she’d chop you up and feed you to her lover’s tree, to keep him alive.
Others said that if you and a lover snuck beneath the branches, she would fly into such a jealous rage, that she’d eat your heart then feed what was left to her tree.
The Grove Witch was the first instance in a story where the Old Fae were painted as carnivorous.
It is later iterations of her story where she lured her admirer into the tree branches of her previous lover and then fed on him so her lover could watch as she enacted the only revenge she could give him.
A lot of speculation in the literature community around Old Fae tales is that she may be the first concrete evidence of them feeding on other sentient creatures.
Which led to the discovery of the blight condition. It’s…fascinating.”
By the time Greggory was done, Austin had attached five tentacles around in a circle around his pelvis.
However, he’d taken some creative liberties and made a mating trunk.
A longer, curled appendage that would inflate the little, pudgy frills that spiraled around it.
Texture. One thing he’d read in every book ever was how much texture was a key component.
Some people didn’t like it, some people loved it, and this was his way to see which side of the fence Hyacinth was on.
If she didn’t like it, then he could deflate the frills or just use the tentacles. Who doesn’t like those?
Only, he realized, he’d only been half listening when he tied his britches back up in front of him. He twisted back to Greggory. “Wait, so if Hyacinth is an Old Fae, she needs to…eat people?”
“Ehhh, that’s entirely up for debate,” Greggory sighed, smacking the scroll against his palm in thought.
“But she eats food like us here, and we’re not supposed to need food-food.
Nor does Lord Rosemont. As the only accounts of modern-day Old Fae are from New Fae who reverted back, there’s no way to tell. ”
“Reverted…back?” Austin blanched what little color was in his cheeks to complete oblivion. “What’s that mean?!”
“Oh! You weren’t there—right! Austin, do you know the difference?
” Greggory cocked his head, and most of his side to the right in question.
Austin smiled sheepishly, shrugging. I honestly thought that was just what they called people still in the Fae Realm, I didn’t…
know there was a difference. Greggory stepped up toward Austin.
“New Fae are the regular, everyday fae you meet on the street. They’re a reflection of their history, of their heritage, but they’re not tethered to the old magic and rules.
Some scholars say it was a religious conversion, some say it was an adaption to realms outside of the Fae realm, but the only people who know for sure are long gone or inaccessible.
And the only reason we know there’s a difference is because of blight. ”
“Blight?” Austin squinted at Greggory in suspicion.
“A condition that only Fae go through if they consume the flesh of other sentient beings. They have to be people. Then they change, their magic changes, their connection to nature changes, and, of course, most go mad. It’s hard not to when it feels like your insides are being ripped out and something else stuffed back in its place…
according to Lord Rosemont, there have only been two cases of a Fae surviving their blighted condition in all of King’s Fall history, and neither of them were Sabine.
” Greggory frowned, shuffling his toes against the floor.
When he peaked up, he did so with a grimace, “Which means Sabine has always been Old Fae.”
“So, she IS the Grove Witch?” Austin crouched down in front of Greggory. He shook his head and waggled the rolled parchment in his face.
“No, no—she’s not. She can’t be. This is a letter from an adventurer to his guild leader, out in the Badlands.
It details him coming across the Grove Witch.
He saw her through the branches and thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world, but when he went to talk to her, he got a terrible sensation that he was in danger.
He ran away and watched as another hapless fool fell into her trap.
The adventurer saw her start to feed the body to the tree and so he lit the tree on fire.
Apparently, she was tethered to the tree, so as the tree turned to ash, so did she.
” Greggory held up the scroll to give to Austin.
“Will you give that to Hyacinth. I think it might help her. Because Sabine isn’t THE Grove Witch.
That was more of a collection of stories about people encountering these types of fae.
I think she’s ‘a’ grove witch, I think it’s a type of Old Fae.
And that means…I think I know how to fix her ghost problem. ”
“Yeah,” Austin sighed, tucking the scroll away in his pants. “We just gotta go burn down a tree.”
What is with ghost stories and burning things? Can’t we ever just talk it out with the spirits? Why does everyone love fire so much!
“Precisely!” Greggory slapped at his calf. “I’m going to go find more stuff for her, but go have fun with the tentacles you sewed in. Don’t forget to give her the scroll before you use those wiggly things on her.”
Austin stumbled back a bit, whiplash from the conversation making him loopy as Greggory scrambled up and out of the lab.
What…what just happened? But there was no answer as he tucked away his chest of spare parts.
Seriously, there is no privacy in this house.
He washed his hands and changed his shirt when he heard the laboratory door crack open.
Austin stopped at the base of the stairs to find Hyacinth up at the top with Snuffles. She held him up above her head.
“What’s he done now?” Austin laughed, eyeballing the fluffy ball in her hands.
“Havershum said he’s gonna turn him into stew!” Hyacinth whined.
“That’s not what I said!” Havershum’s voice echoed behind her.
“Oh dear,” Austin sighed, stomping up the stairs. “Havershum, leave Snuffles alone.”
“He’s evil! He chewed through Smith’s pant leg!”
“He’s just curious!” Hyacinth argued. Austin cleared the top step and found the house in absolute chaos.
He’d left Hyacinth with Agatha in Melody’s art parlor, and somehow in the hour he was down in the lab, the house was torn apart.
Tables were overturned; there was a random chair in the hallway.
And there was some sort of vine creeping down the walls from the ceiling.
Austin glanced left and right, finding the carpet ripped up and part of it shredded.
“Did you have a fight with a hundred rabbits?” Austin teased as he closed the laboratory door behind him.
“No!” Havershum fought his way out of an aggressive ivy keeping him pinned to the banister of the stairs.
The wraith slashed through the vines that screamed, like a teakettle getting too hot, for a moment before wilting away.
“Just him! Just the rabbit. That’s a spawn of the oblivion I tell you! He’s got antlers! And tentacles!”