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On the one hand, letting Dom and Dandelion walk back to Dom’s place together might be mildly dangerous, in case the suspicious duo had their eyes on Dom. But they surely couldn’t keep track of him at all times, and Dandelion was strong; Star was confident that they’d have to do something subtle and nasty to get to him, so whatever they were going to do probably wouldn’t be while Dom was with Dandelion. Still, it was nerve wracking to leave the two people who seemed to be targeted alone together.

Though… maybe giving them some time to chat would let them work things out and Star wouldn’t feel nearly as in-the-middle as he had been.

Split the difference, he decided, tired of thinking it over. “I’ll walk with you back to Dom’s place, then say bye from there,” he said. “I was thinking of heading up a little anyway. Besides, I need Vayne’s number from you, Dom.”

“Do you?” Dom asked, a bit disapproving. “He’s a jackass, Star.”

“Sure, but I need to talk to my new bestie Georgio and Georgio does not have hands to answer calls with,” Star said. “Georgio’s expecting it, don’t worry.”

They began to head uphill, Dom reading the number out and Star dutifully typing it in, then hitting dial. It almost went to voicemail before Vayne answered. “Jack Vayne. Who is this?”

“Hi, Vayne,” Star said. “It’s Son, That Ain’t Right.”

“The fuck you’d get this number? From Toulali?” That was Dom’s last name. “We’re competition, you know, he shouldn’t—” Vayne’s voice cut off; Star could hear the ambient loud grumble of Georgio’s voice in the background, though he couldn’t make out the details. “Ah, hell, Georgio says he’s expecting a call. Whatever, I guess you were heroes together earlier, I should’ve realized you’d have bonded or some shit. Here. I’m putting you on speaker.”

Not Star’s favourite way of having private conversations, but it made sense. “Hey, Georgie Porgie. You with me?”

“We at nickname level, Son?” Georgio growled cheerfully. “You ready to send me flowers too?”

“I’ll think about it,” Star said, rolling his eyes. “Any news?”

“Yeah, some,” Georgio said. His voice just sounded like that, Star had decided, but he at least dropped the overblown metaphors most of the time when just chatting. “I did get to talk to Heronika. Garrett was the scheduler who’d double booked us. So maybe the dynamic duo were trying to ELIMINATE WITNESSES.”

He sounded way too loud and excited at that last part. “Or maybe they’d worked directly with him and were worried he was going to talk,” Star said. “Hard to say.”

“He was taken to Branwin Central Hospital,” Georgio added, smug. “Asked around. Obviously I can’t go there, but you might be able to. You’d have to wear shirt and shoes and not be a naked lil monkey.”

“I do when I have to,” Star sighed. “I just like to have my sexy, silky, unblemished perfect skin free to the air, Georgio, you don’t wear pants either, you get me.” Both Dandelion and Dom were looking at him, Star abruptly realized. Well, let them. He wasn’t wrong. “But yeah, I’d wear ’em to a hospital. Okay, that’s an option, sure. Anything else? Did anyone see the guys in question?”

A bullish sigh. “No such luck. The only other thing I found out is that they’re closing things down for a bit at the track Building should be shut up tighter’n a nun’s panties. No races for the next week, Toulali should’ve got a text about it, I’d bet. They haven’t cancelled any two weeks out yet, it’ll depend if they can drain the standing water and get things fixed up properly by then, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

“So it’s basically abandoned until they can get it pumped?” Star murmured. “Interesting.” That meant he could break in at any time, theoretically. “Let me know if you hear anything else, though I know you probably won’t given… not being at the track. You going to a nice field somewhere?”

“Don’t worry about Georgio,” Vayne said. Background noise dimmed; he’d taken it off speaker again. “I got a nice stable for him just outside the city.”

“Lots of room to run around?” Star asked dryly.

“You think you’re so funny,” Vayne said, and hung up. 

Star shook his head as he glanced back up at the other two. “What a guy.”

“I told you,” Dom said. “…My place is just up this road.”

“Then I’ll peel off from here,” Star said. “You two be careful, okay? Situational awareness. Look both ways before you cross the street and behind you so you don’t get jumped.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Dandelion said, leaning in and giving Star a lingering kiss on his cheek, just next to his lips. “You do the same for yourself.”

Star flustered, backing up a few steps., “Yeah, yeah,” he said lightly, waving a hand and turning to go. He peeled off another piece of bread and chewed it as he headed off. So that was interesting news, and led to several possible next steps. Star checked his wound absently as he chewed; it was healing nicely, so there was no need for a doctor even if he did go to the hospital, though he supposed he could always use it as an excuse if he needed to get in to see Garrett, since the EMT had been insistent he should go. And of course, the racetrack was no longer swarming with people, from the sound of it, so that was also a new option.

The bread wasn’t satisfying, and Star knew he needed to eat some real meat. Not letting himself have complicated feelings about what was always a guilty pleasure at the best of times, he swung into the Humanburger restaurant and ordered a number 4, bringing the tray back to his table as soon as it was ready. 

Star peeled the wrapper back, and the familiar scent hit his nostrils, flooding his mouth with saliva. Legally, Humanburger meat wasn’t actually human, but whatever trick they did with it did make it taste and feel much like the real thing. He took another bite, then a third almost before he’d swallowed the first, the flavour almost making him shiver with a satisfaction he’d denied himself for almost too long.

A deep breath, and he forced himself to slow down before he annihilated the burger fast enough to make himself sick. Half to distract himself, he checked his messages to make sure that his general group had been checking in on the hour as needed. Along with messages he’d already seen, he’d got a couple new ones:

Dandelion had sent him a selfie of himself with Dom packing in the background, though Dandelion’s own image was slightly blurred. 

Adrien had sent him a selfie also, this one unblurred, though he was smoking a joint while surrounded by cute girls, so he was definitely taking this whole thing seriously. A cat tail was visible in frame, so Star had to assume he was at least out at one of the girls’ places, and not out somewhere that he could easily get jumped in a crowd. 

Caoimhe’s message was a little more alarming; hers said that an old friend had called her and asked for some help, so she was going to go deal with that. He texted her back and told her to message if it was related in any way, and Caoimhe sent him a thumb’s up back immediately, so presumably at least she hadn’t been kidnapped or anything. Yet. It probably wasn’t related, though. Caoimhe had her own life to live.

That whole thing had killed at least a half hour, especially given how he’d forced himself to slow down on the burger. He finished the last few bites, hit up the restroom, and headed back out into the brisk, late-afternoon air. As soon as he stepped out, he got a chill that he wasn’t sure was entirely the air, a sense like he was being watched. He turned slowly, taking a look around him, but didn’t spot anything out of place.

Anxiety, he reminded himself. He was uneasy, on edge, undecided about next steps, still unfamiliar with the shape of the threat. He was just asking for trouble. Next he’d see a bag in the wind and start running or something—

Star almost jumped out of his skin when his phone rang. He fished it out quickly, seeing Vayne’s number on the screen. “Vayne? What’s up?”

“Hey,” Vayne said. “Listen, I’ve separated from Georgio for now, didn’t want to say this in front of him because I’m worried. He’s headstrong and hot-blooded and rushes into things, you know?”

“Yeah,” Star said. Star was too. It was basically required to be a racehorse. “Okay, what is it?”

“I may have some news about the situation,” Vayne said. “I got the gist of what you were looking into, and obviously I saw what happened at the track today. You were looking for a person in black, right? Creepy? Skulking around?”

Star’s pulse quickened. “Yeah, I was.”

“Okay, well, I have to finish some stuff up, but if you want to meet me in a little bit, I’ll send you an address. I don’t want to talk about it over the phone, don’t know who’s listening. I’ll text an address over. I can be there in an hour, hang out until evening, so come by if you can.”

“Vayne,” Star began, but the other jockey had already hung up.

Well, hell. That raised even more questions. He licked some burger grease off his fingers absently as he put his phone back, trying to figure out the best next step.

There was the hospital, though he didn’t know how much of a lead it would be, especially since he wasn’t sure if Garrett was conscious or ready to talk, or even alive—but if he wanted to go today instead of tomorrow, it wouldn’t be open to visitors for too much longer. 

There was the track—though that was likely to have to stay locked up and thus unoccupied for a while, Star if people might catch him trying to sneak in if he didn’t wait until dark, but there was always the risk someone else might have the same idea and might get there first, too. 

He could try to follow up with whatever was going on with Caoimhe, though he doubted it was related. 

He could go right to Vayne’s address as soon as he got it, see if he could set up and keep an eye out for things before Vayne got there. 

Or fuck, something else he had yet to think of.

Star let out an audible whine and stomped a foot. Oh, he hated decisions.

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Star bowed deeply to the Lindwyrm. As a fairy, he knew better than to thank the Lindwyrm—though in this case it would likely be fine, since they’d already offered him something other than words, he didn’t want to antagonize the dragon. “I’m grateful,” he said softly. “Dominic is a man I have offered control of my life to, and he has repaid me in glory. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the situation, but the risk—”

“Either a demon or a witch, and another brook horse,” the Lindwyrm said, briskly. “Lord Dandelion has explained, including updating me as more information came in. I believe I have the gist. I will not get further involved, not for any blood or words, but I will offer my hospitality and protection, as discussed.” 

Star didn’t look at Dandelion, who’d surely school his expression in front of the Lindwyrm but who hated being called Lord. “Then I’ll withdraw for a moment to reassure my human that all is well here.”

He took Dom by the shoulder, bowing again and encouraging Dom to do the same, and stepped back into the hallway, shutting the office door behind him. Dom let out a soft breath, and Star heard himself letting out an echoing one.

“How’re you doing?” he asked Dom, softly.

The silence lasted a beat too long. “I’m fine,” Dom said, then kind of gave him a rueful expression. “Sorry. Not lying, just… overwhelmed.”

“I bet,” Star said. “You want to talk about it?”

“I… I don’t know. I guess,” Dom muttered. He ran both hands over his short, tightly-coiled hair. “To be honest, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to just be actively afraid of supernatural things.”

“Even though you’re down in the Valley all the time?”

“People forget,” Dom said. “You get used to it. It becomes background. There are other fears I’m more used to.” He laughed ruefully, still low. “When I rode you the first time, I was petrified, but what you were offering me… I mean, I didn’t want to say no. I just knew that deals with monsters went bad a lot, but you seemed so legit. And then you were. I rode you and I was perfectly safe. It kind of, after that, I just kind of started to roll with it. But… maybe it’s why I’d been nervous about meeting your boss and band. Like, it’d draw me deeper into a world I was just a visitor in.”

It’s your world too, Star didn’t say. Plenty of humans stayed far away enough from the Valleys to only have the barest of interactions with otherworldly folk. He drew a slow inhalation, tasting Dom’s sweat in the air, the sense of belonging that he had when he scented Dom, someone he’d quietly added to his herd even knowing it would almost certainly be temporary. Dom would leave, or die, or some other such thing. It was natural. Still, he braced himself for rejection.

“Do you want,” Star said slowly, “after this is all done and we know it’s safe, I mean, do you want to call it off? Go back to finding work as a jockey elsewhere?”

“I don’t think so,” Dom said quickly. “I mean—” Another one of those shaky laughs. “I guess it might depend on how this all goes. If something goes horribly wrong and I get hurt or something, maybe I’ll change my mind, so I’m not going to promise, but… I don’t want to. This is the world you come from, Star. It’s the one you’ve lived in this whole time.”

What was that meant to mean? Star shook himself a little. “So?”

“So I don’t want to just walk away from the lived reality of someone who’s important to me,” Dom said, tone raw.

Star sighed, leaning against the wall, which was cool against his back. He closed his eyes.”I walked away from it myself, you know?”

There was the rustling of cloth as Dom came to lean against the wall next to him. “What d’you mean?”

“A long time ago,” Star began, and made a face. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel Dom’s eyes on him. “No, I don’t want to begin like it’s a story. I was raised in a herd. We’re herd animals; a lot of fairies are solitary, but brook horses are herd animals. For a long time, as a colt, I didn’t question what we did? Even before the gates, there were enough humans who could cross over into our world, or where we could edge out into theirs to hunt. Rivers and things like that are often between-points. Anywhere a lot of people die can be, and rivers are like that. It just wasn’t reliable, not like it’s been since the gates have opened again.” Not that he’d experienced the first time the gates were open, long before his time, back in the age of myth. They’d closed off for the intervening millennia, and had reopened around twenty-five years ago. “So they’d wander in, or we’d find a spot and slip through, and then either lure someone over to us as a human or a horse, depending on how the hunting seemed best.”

“Drown them and eat them.”

“Yeah,” Star agreed softly. Fuck, he was hungry. He hated being hungry while remembering it. “I met a boy by the river. Fell in love, though it was really a crush in retrospect. I mean, I was just a colt. It felt like the whole world, though. Spent days playing with and talking to him, until my sister saw us and forced me to drown him.”

“Forced you…?”

Star shook his head. “I was afraid of being driven out, or rejected, or beaten,” he said softly. “So I did it when I was told I had to. Of my own will, but coerced.”

Dom let out a hiss of breath.

“Then we ate him, of course.”

“So you left?”

“No. I’m a herd animal,” Star said. “And I was a child. Where would I go? So we kept on like that, which was fine until I met a girl running from an abusive father. I was a bit older then. A teenager, though of course I still considered myself a colt since I wasn’t a full-grown stallion. She found the beautiful horse by the water and sobbed against me, and I killed her father for her. I didn’t do it in front of her, and she pretended she didn’t know what I did, but she knew, and she’d ride me and hug me and whisper thanks to me time and again. I refused to drown her when the herd confronted me about being so weak a second time.”

Dom’s fingers brushed his own, and Star let him take his hand. “So you left the herd then?”

“No. Not until after they drowned her. She tasted incredible. I couldn’t do it any more. I ran as far as I could, made myself as small as possible under a waterfall and sobbed as if the fall itself were my tears. I felt like my only options were two different forms of death for my own heart. Dandelion found me there and offered me his hand and protection. As two exiles, he said. So I walked off with him and never looked back.” Star sighed softly. The old story tasted bitter on his lips. “It’s okay if you need to walk away from a situation that isn’t good for you, Dom.”

Dom lifted the hand he was holding to his mouth and kissed the palm of it, then curled Star’s fingers around the kiss for him. “You’re very brave.”

“I really am not.”

“I want to be as brave as you,” Dom said softly. “And I want to stay with you. But if I can’t, it won’t be your fault. Okay?”

It wasn’t a promise, but it’d have to be enough. Star shook himself again and pulled away with a smile. “Okay. Let’s go talk to people and learn more about this place.”

For a moment, he thought Dom was about to protest, but he just nodded, letting Star’s hand drop. “Lead on.”

Star did, taking them back to the selkie, who was packing up her harp. “Hello, miss.”

“Hello, sir,” she responded. “Finding it to your liking, then?”

“My friend here is likely to stay for a time,” Star said. “I was hoping, since you were so kind when we first talked, that you could tell me a bit about your lord the Lindwyrm.”

Her lips seemed to tighten briefly. “You surely didn’t come here knowing nothing. He’s an archivist, a collector of stories, and will offer home in exchange them, and additionally will offer protection for those who will give their blood to maintain this old house. He’s very knowledgeable about the things he has heard stories of or studied, and not about much else, as he never leaves the home. But if he’s offered to protect you here, he’ll keep his word.”

Star tilted his head. “Is it okay if someone else gives the blood and stories? My lord Dandelion offered to.”

“Dandelion?” She seemed somewhere between shocked and taken aback, and certainly had recognized his name. But then, Dandelion was a famous musician, and she was a musician as well, so it probably wasn’t that different from if Star had said something like my lord David Bowie or My liege Mick Jagger. “That’s the lordling who came in here?? Goodness.”

“It was,” Star admitted. He decided to skip the fact that he also was part of the band. “Does that make a difference?”

“Not to the Lindwyrm, surely,” she muttered. She shook her head. “It’s fine to get it from a third party; it’s still an exchange. If the Lindwyrm agrees, there’s no problem.”

“Any rules I should know about?” Dom put in.

She turned his head slightly toward him. “Violating his hospitality could cost your life. If you do something to the other tenants here, I mean. Tidy up after yourself, be polite, and treat the other tenants like expensive furniture: nice to admire and enjoy, but don’t do a thing that you’d expect to harm them.”

“Can you show us to the room Dom would be staying in?” Star asked lightly. “We’d like to take a look.”

“I’m afraid not,” she said shortly. “I can’t see the signs on the doors. I know where mine is, and one or two others, but I wouldn’t be able to tell you which rooms were empty for certain.”

“I can do it,” another voice put in, and the cat-sìth walked in. They transformed as they went, shifting into an androgynous youth in black capris and a black sweater with a white shirt peeking out from underneath. Their hair was short and fluffy black, and cat ears poked out from it, along with two tails winding behind them. “Leave it to me.”

The selkie nodded to them and turned back to her instrument, and the cat-sìth gestured. “I overheard everything you told her,” they said cheerfully. “Come with me.”

Dom and Star shared a look, but followed obligingly. “I didn’t catch your name? I’m Dom,” Dom offered. 

“Call me Miette,” the cat-sìth said, and Star updated his almost-blank impression of them to terminally online. “Don’t let Eva freak you out.” It was probably Éabha, Star realized after a moment, not Eva. “She’s overly cautious, even paranoid. Well, a demon holds her skin, so she’s been in hiding for a long time. Leaves a girl bitter boots, don’t you know?”

“Sure,” Dom said, like that was a turn of phrase that made sense to him. “Yeah, I could see that. If I had to go into hiding without half of me, I think I’d be nervous about crossing any lines myself.”

“Good man,” Miette said approvingly. “The Lindwyrm’s fine. He’s brisk, but in my experience, he treats his people as people he cares for as a liege to his subjects, not as an owner to furniture. And he’s very accommodating to the fact that different folks have different needs. Why, we keep all windows closed in here at night to keep his protection stronger, but he lets me keep mine open so I can come and go at all hours, and just puts additional warding on my room. Here we are, then, this is the most likely room.”

They stopped at one that had a blank sign on it; Star noted the ones they’d passed all either had names or symbols that surely represented the people inside. Miette opened the door for them, and gestured.

The room was nice; a bit old-fashioned, like a room in a B&B that marketed itself on its old Victorian home quality. There was a big queen-sized bed against one wall, a nice roll-top desk, a big radiator heater already humming away, and a door into an en suite bath, which was a definite nice add, Star thought. It wasn’t huge, but it was elegant and comfortable. And, yes, a window, with a lovely old oak tree outside it.

“This is lovely,” Dom said. “I… yeah. I can stay here.”

Star’s heart leaped a little. “So you’ll accept protection?”

“Like we discussed,” Dom said, “I want to help, so I want you to call me out the moment I can be useful in anything. I really don’t want to be just left on the sidelines. But it sounds like the protection will be here whenever I’m in the house, and that’s fine as long as I don’t expect to get any additional help outside.”

“That’s normal,” Miette put in, shamelessly jumping into their conversation. “Most of us have things to do, so we come and go. The Lindwyrm never goes outside, so obviously that protection doesn’t follow.”

“Then I guess we should go do an agreement,” Star said. He nodded to Miette, who nodded back, then left them, wandering down the hall like they had nothing better to do. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Dom said.

The exchange was brisk; once Dom agreed, the Lindwyrm simply turned to Dandelion, who drew a vial of silvery blood for him. He had apparently already given stories, so there was nothing else to do.

“You can begin to stay here immediately,” the Lindwyrm said. “Come and go as you please.”

“Then I’ll go pick up some of my things,” Dom said. 

Dandelion rose, fingers pressed to his bleeding wrist and sealing the wound across. “I’ll come with you,” he said. “You ought to be protected by me until you’ve made it back here. Star, what would you like to do?”

That… was a good question. He followed them out, noticing that the selkie had left the main room now, presumably having gone back to her own; he wouldn’t get any more answers from her, it seemed. He was hungry and needed to eat, so that was probably a first step. But he also needed to plan more about what he was going to do next. Where should he go? Who should he talk to, and what should he do?

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“I want to keep you safe,” Star repeated, watching Dom’s gaze slide away from his. “But I also want your help, and regardless, this should be your decision. No, it has to be your decision,” he corrected himself, as Dom looked back at him again, surprised. “If you want to help, you should be allowed to help.”

Dom swallowed visibly, throat bobbing. “But?” he prompted.

Star gave him a wincing smile. “But I think we should at least meet Dandelion’s friend. If he insists you have to stay there the whole time, that’d be a red flag, but if he offers a safe place to return to, at least for the next few nights or when you’re not out doing the stuff you need to… well, is that a bad thing? If you get there and you decide, okay, let’s do this, well, then you’ve made the decision with all information on the table.”

The tension seemed to seep from Dom’s shoulders. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “We should meet him.”

Relief and guilt warred in Star, though he wasn’t sure why he was feeling the second one. Maybe just from trying to talk anyone into anything, he thought, annoyed, and squeezed Dom’s hand once more before releasing it. “I’ll let Dandelion know.”

“Yeah. Eat your bread,” Dom added. “I’m worried about the cut. There’s no way they can trace you through your blood, right?”

Was there? Most of the blood would have dissolved into the water right away, too diluted to really draw out. But some would have got in the other nixie’s mouth, and while a nix couldn’t track by blood alone, that didn’t mean something else couldn’t, especially if they managed to get the blood out without the nixie having swallowed it. Star was sure the impulse would be to swallow; it would be his, and he’d sworn off that sort of thing a long time ago. “It’s unlikely,” Star said uneasily. “I don’t think it’ll happen. But I’m not going to say it’s impossible.”

“Cool. Great. Just another thing to try to keep in mind, I guess,” Dom said.

Trying to assuage Dom’s worries, Star took a big bite of the bread, chewing as he texted Dandelion back. Haven’t decided but we’d like to meet him. If Dom’s allowed to come and go freely but is protected in the home that’d be the most likely scenario we’d say yes to.

Dandelion texted back an address and a thumb’s up emoji, which was as good an answer as any, and Star ate another bite, forcing himself to keep going until he’d finished the slice. He wanted meat, but the bread would do for now. He could get a real meal once this was dealt with.

Turning back to Viv, he said, “I think we’re heading out for a bit now, okay? Text me if anything comes up?”

“Wait a sec,” Viv said, beckoning him over. “I was trying to figure out if there was anything else you might need, and they suggested some of this cake.”

“Covert cake,” the brown-haired ‘babe’ said. “My brother made some earlier as an experiment and we’re mostly out, but we’ve got one slice left. It’s a bit experimental but great for sneaking.”

“Your brother?” Dom asked, frowning.

‘Babe’ waved a hand. “Oh, I don’t work here. I’m just around enough to help out once in a while. My brother’s training under Antoine, so lots of experimental spell bakes end up here and I eat whatever to help test edge cases. It’s my privilege as—”

Antoine took the cake box that ‘Babe’ was holding. “Okay, that’s enough info for our customers,” he said dryly. “Covert cake is fairly good at keeping you from being seen or heard for about one hour. We’re working on a mix to try to extend it. There’s only one slice right now, so use it when you really need to not be noticed or seen for an hour.”

Star took it, vanishing it into his portable pocket. “How much?”

“$10. As noted, it’s experimental and was made by a novice.”

He paid up. “Any other warnings?” 

“Yeah. If you, or whoever eats it, interacts with someone directly, the spell will instantly break,” Antoine warned. “And for some reason, your shadow crossing any part of them, including their shadow, counts as direct interaction. So you’d need to keep your distance. Also, you can’t eat it and your freebie slice of protection pie at the same time. They don’t interact well.”

Star considered that. “That’s probably fine,” he said slowly. “Makes sense. Either you think you’re going to get into a scrape and take the pie, or you’re gonna try to avoid one and take the cake.”

“One hopes. With experimentation we might refine it, but that won’t be a quick process,” Antoine said. “I appreciate your business. Come by again if you need anything. If you call a day in advance I can try to get more whipped up.”

Frankly Star had already eaten more than enough baked goods with the slice of bread alone, but it was worth keeping in mind. “Will do. It’s a kindness. I appreciate it.”

He bowed slightly, gave Viv a farewell wave—looked like she had gotten into conversation with this ‘babe’, probably about witch stuff, and he and Dom headed for the door.

“It’s not far,” Star said, reviewing the address again. “Really close to the gate.” That was just a fifteen minute walk from the bakery. “You comfortable walking?”

“Sure,” Dom said. He fell into step beside Star.

Both were silent for a little while, and then Dom cleared his throat. “So,” he said. “You’re really worried, huh?”

“I mean. You’re my friend,” Star stammered, suddenly flustered and not entirely sure why. “You’re my rider.”

“Yeah,” Dom said. “I still don’t really… understand how this happened. Us, I mean. Rider and horse. Is it really enough for you to stick around right now?”

What was there to say? The horse Dom had been hired to jockey for had died suddenly. The owner had unfairly blamed Dom and fired him as a jockey, and Dom was left mourning a horse he’d bonded to and the loss of income and a job he was passionate about, and worried that his reputation would have been harmed. He’d lost everything at once. Star could relate to that.

So he’d offered his services. A new league, riding a horse of his own choice. He hadn’t gone by Star at the time, but they brainstormed the registered name over drinks, tears turning to laughter. “We just met at the right time,” Star said.

“I know. I mean, I remember how it happened, I just…” Dom swallowed. “You trust me so deeply, and now my mind’s been compromised and you’re still trusting me, and still helping me. Going out of your way to do so even though—I mean, it’d be safer for you and your lord if you just disavowed me right now.”

Star knew what Dom meant about trusting him so deeply. But Dom had trusted him first. When Star had offered to become Dom’s mount, he hadn’t done so blindly. Star had said he needed a show of trust, and Dom had willingly mounted him and let him run—him, a nixie, a brook horse, what would be called a kelpie if he’d come from another territory than he had been, fairies who were known to drown and kill and eat anyone who dared ride them.

The show of trust had been enough that Star owed him one in return. So he let Dom put a bridle on him. When a bridle was on him as they rode, he was completely responsive to all of Dom’s desires. He was required to be. It made him subservient to Dom in every way, and he only got his freedom back after the race when the bridle came off.

Dom hadn’t liked it, not really, had even offered to ride bridleless, but receiving commands was how a horse was ridden by a jockey instead of just following his own feet. Dom wouldn’t be doing anything without one, and the offer would have been empty. Star had tried to explain that it was just a domestic horse’s nature, to learn to respond to a bridle and have difficulty fighting it with a good rider, and Dom had argued that Star wasn’t domestic. It was true; it was a magical enchantment built into his bones as a brook horse. Impossible to make a normal human fully understand.

“I’m not going to disavow you,” Star said. “You’re important to me.”

“As a rider?”

This was all too much. “As you,” Star shot back. “Hang on, I have to text everyone.”

Dom fell silent and Star hurriedly buried his gaze in the phone, walking blindly as he sent a general message to the group to update them on the progress, and to remind everyone to give him regular check-ins if nothing had changed and updates if they did.

“I think we’re here,” Dom said, a short while later, and Star finally dared to glance up.

The air was thick with magic and strangeness, this close to the gate. For Dom, it would feel like a high pressure front, a headache and faint pain that he likely couldn’t avoid. Acclimatization to a gate was hard; if Dom didn’t come down to the valley regularly to ride, staying a place like this long term would be very difficult for him.

But he did, at least.

The mansion looked old, Victorian-style, though Star had no way of knowing if it actually was a heritage home that had been preserved through the shift in geography or if it was a newer home created in that style. There was a gated-off front garden, with a path that led to stairs up to the front door, and a personal garden that wound around the entire building. The building itself was painted an ominous black, including the building’s turret tower. 

The gate wasn’t iron, though; if Star didn’t miss his guess, it was silver, which would cause a problem to a variety of creatures, but Star wasn’t among them. He let out a breath as he led Dom in through the front gate. A large cat, almost the size of a dog, black with a white spot on its chest, was loafing on the lawn and keeping a close eye on them. Star glanced aside at it, making eye contact. A cat-sìth, standing guard—another fairy creature. It didn’t say anything to Star, but when Star inclined his head, it inclined its own back.

What kind of place was this, anyway? Clearly a fairy place, between the lack of iron and the cat-sìth out front, but what did that mean, in this case?

Nobody answered his knock, but when Star tried the door, it creaked open. He stepped inside, gesturing Dom in after him. To the right was a sitting room, where a beautiful woman who smelled of the sea sat, playing a harp made of bone to a handful of people, some human, some other fairies. 

“Hello,” Star called, and the woman put a hand on the strings to still them, turning towards him and Dom. Star realized she was blind, her white eyes not focusing on them. “My noble Lord Dandelion arrived earlier today and invited us here to meet the host. Where might I go?”

She was silent another moment, assessing the sound of his voice, and likely, the general scent and aura of him. He was sure she was a selkie, and wondered where her skin was—did Dandelion’s friend hold it hostage, or was she here under his protection, perhaps to hide from whoever had it? “Straight down the hall and to the left,” she said, softly melodious. “There’s a sitting room. Your lord has been in a meeting with mine for a time.”

“It’s a kindness,” Star told her with a bow he hoped she’d sense, if not see. He left her gazing blindly and thoughtfully after them as he led Dom that way. 

“Is it just me or is this place a little uncanny?” Dom whispered.

“Fairy hideouts often are,” Star said, with more confidence than he felt. The door was where the selkie had said it was, and he knocked briskly. 

“Come in,” a low voice said, and Star obligingly opened the door.

Behind him, Dom choked on a half-voiced curse, and Star could see why. Dandelion sat in one chair on the near side of the desk, but behind it, sprawled across a large chaise lounge, was a fifteen-foot-long dragon. He was slim and elegant, black scaled with a gold undertone, and his eyes were remarkably human. The dragon sat up as they entered, and he moved oddly; it was natural, like he was born to it, but with a sort of sense like he was being puppeted by something inside him, like how it felt to watch a Lunar New Year lion dance.

“I am the Lindwyrm,” the dragon said to Star with no preamble. “My old friend here said your friend may need a place to stay and be safe from those who might hunt him. I sell hospitality for stories, and protection for blood. Your lord already agreed to share stories to allow your friend to stay here as needed and leave freely as desired, and has also agreed to give a vial of his blood should your friend need protection at all times when under my roof. Are these terms amenable?”

“W-well,” Dom said. “We just met, I haven’t quite decided—”

“You may explore my home if you wish to confirm its safety and suitability,” the Lindwyrm interrupted briskly. “Question anyone you want, myself included, to make sure you know what you are getting into.” He seemed impatient and a little bored. Well, after all, Star had kept putting off coming. “Then, once you decide if my home is amenable to you, we can finalize the deal.”

[Leave a suggestion in the comments!
It can be anything you want, but if you want to explore, let me know, and
if you want to ask questions, please let me know to whom and what the questions are.
Also, thank you so much for your patience and understanding ♥]

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Heeeeeey all, I hate to do this two days in a row, but I got some very bad news today (yeah, separate from yesterday’s stuff) — one of my cats is sick and we got some pretty bad health news about him. I’m currently processing it and learn about our next steps to maintain the best quality of life for him, and I expect to be able to write tomorrow, but unfortunately all my brain power is going into this today. But I have some great ideas around your suggestions and I’m looking forward to writing it.

Day 14 turn-in for suggestions is extended to the usual time tomorrow once more (so Oct 17 at 3 pm PST) so anyone who needs the time to catch up, go for it! If I need to go a day or two into November to wrap things up, I will, so don’t worry about that either.

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Hey folks, some stuff came up today!

Day 14 turn-in for suggestions is extended to the usual time tomorrow instead of today (so Oct 16 at 3 pm PST)!

Be good to each other!

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