Two days barricaded in the main house felt like a prison sentence, one where Dido and Candi followed me around from room to room. If I sat in one of the libraries, the pair found a reason to be there.. If I ate breakfast in the Quetzalcoatl Room, they ate in the Quetzalcoatl Room. If I sketched in the Leviathan Room, they played cards in the Leviathan Room. Colette would eat lunch with me every day. I'd tell her about Manhattan and she'd tell me about Gemknight City. It should have been nice, but knowing I couldn't go outside felt miserable.

If I'm being honest, I think it was my previous confinement that did it. I was going stir crazy.

What made it worse was Sasha was always watching. Everywhere I turned, she was there. It made my skin crawl.

As the countryside passes by the carriage window, my excitement is definitely a direct result of days of being stuck in the house. I feel antsy with eagerness to get out and stretch my legs.

"It's your move, Mr. Smalls," The Captain says, leaning back from the game board.

She started calling me Mr. Smalls again this morning. At first I thought I'd done something wrong, but then I realized it was the stress of the day. They're taking me to the faerie ring so I can report back to the Supernatural Occurrence Commission. The carriages had arrived early in the morning when the sky was still dark. When I came down, Sasha and Obera were waiting for me in full uniform. The former looked pissed. I have to assume she'd never caught up with our mongoose friend.

I study the board and shake my head. Same moves as always. I make the necessary counter to ensure my win. She smirks and takes my supporting piece. The look on my face must be hilarious because she cracks up. I concentrate on the board positions and hesitantly take her vanguard. She wags her finger and attacks my backline. At this point, I have no idea what to do.

I move my next piece then walk it back. I start to move a second and stop to really study the board state.

"Guess I've caught you off guard, Mr. Smalls." She chuckles. "Now you're wondering if you've learned how to play the game or how to play me."

"Is there that big of a difference?"

"Yes. How big of a difference depends on you."

There's something profound to her words which makes me rethink our last game. Was she teaching me this lesson the whole time? It's hard to be sure. I study the dragon and elk motif on the walls as I ponder her words and my next move.

I turn back to my opponent and our eyes meet. Her turquoise orbs pull me in.

"Why am I Mr. Smalls all of a sudden?"

"I don't know..." She adjusts her collar. "I need to maintain a certain level of professionalism in front of Minister Atropa, and in the public eye in general."

"You've been quite professional with me since the day we met." I eye her frontline, suspicious of the obvious openings.

"My job is to make sure you're safe and I've let my younger sisters have their way with you and let you get a concussion." Her strong voice grows quiet. "I nearly bit you twice."

I look up from the board. "But you didn't."

She smiles. "I appreciate you saying that." She looks out the window. "I have to do better. I'm not only the commander of my unit, but I'm also the head of my family."

"How does that work, isn't Colette the oldest? Shouldn't she be the head?"

She studies my face for a few moments before turning back to the passing mushrooms.

"Colette found herself in a bit of trouble back in Gemknight. Really bad stuff. The heads of House Black were ready to remove the family name from the coat of arms, but Minister Atropa stepped in on our behalf. In the end, Colette was removed from the inheritance and I was made one of the Vainglory."

"You make it sound like she killed someone... oh shit, she killed someone didn't she?"

"That part is not my story to tell."

"Damn..." I suddenly feel really bad for asking. "I know what it's like to have family obligations upend your life. I like to think there's a certain level of honor in doing what you have to."

A tiny smile curls her lips.

"I made you smile. I thought you'd call me an idiot again."

"You are an idiot, Mr. Smalls," she chuckles.

The giantess, Queenie, and a pair of Vainglory known as The Grimoire Sisters meet us at the parade grounds. I try not to stare as they introduce themselves, but it's impossible. The oldest, Broom, is tall and statuesque like a volleyball player. Her sister, Wax, is shaped like she trains for shot put. Where there should be a nose or cheekbones or even lips there is rounded tan skin. Even their eyes are colorless white fields. When they speak, it sounds like a whisper on the wind.

"Mr. Smalls, I hope your stay with The Azi'Zoros has been comfortable," Minister Atropa says as she glides towards.

"It has, ma'am. My host have... been... great." My words trail off as she glides past without another word.

The Captain gives me an apologetic look and runs off to catch Atropa. Obera shrugs and guides me towards the faerie ring.

"What the heck was that?"

"Minister Atropa is very busy. Don't take it personally."

"How else was I supposed to take that?"

"Don't be silly, Marlon," Sasha interrupts, skipping into our path. "I'll take it from here, Bearson."

Obera looks down at me. "You going to be okay, little guy?"

"I said, I'll take it from here." The edge to Sasha's sickly sweet voice makes the hairs on my neck stand up.

Obera salutes and walks off to join Queenie and Wax.

"It's just you and me, Marlon. Are you scared!" She leans in, flashing her fangs and making her eyes bulge out. "Just kidding, she giggles. But for real, you look nervous. Let me help you with that."

Her eyes swirl and it suddenly feels like we're floating in a swimming pool. I can feel the water, see the pool. Sasha sits on the edge in a tiny little sailor outfit. She blows me a kiss...

...

          ...

                     ...

I'm falling. One moment. One life time. An eternity.

I hit the ground on my hands and knees and this time I dry heaved. As my stomach tries to empty itself, I make a promise to thank Llenoy who'd suggested I skip breakfast. When the puking finally stops, I look up and shield my eyes from the bright yellow sun in my familiar blue sky. I'm home. The air with its car pollution and ever-present New Jersey stink is oh so sweet.

What am I saying?

"Wait, how did I get–"

"Come on, Marlon. Your bosses are waiting." Sasha skips past, waving playfully at the group at the bottom of the hill.

I stand up and dust myself off. "No, seriously. How did we get here?"

She doesn't answer and, when I try to remember, all I can think of is Sasha and I swimming in a shadowy swimming pool.

"Mr. Smalls, it's good to see you alive and well," calls Agent Holmes.

I walk down the hill, trying to piece together what happened. I knew better than to look into Sasha's eyes, but something made me forget for just a moment and a moment was all she needed. Ms. Hwang's warning plays through my head.

A pair of doctors in white hazmat suits smile at me through their protective face shields, as they step out of the white tent they've erected.

"Mr. Smalls, we'll be taking blood and conducting a basic physical. The data will be compared to the baseline readings we established before your trip."

"Yup, you people poked me last time and now you're back for a second date."

"Still the comedian, I see," Holmes says, clapping me on the shoulder.

"Where's your mirror image?"

"Holmes stayed in the van. Said he wasn't in the mood for your jokes."

"That sucks, I've been saving up just for him."

"Just head inside," he chuckles.

"Ah, you did miss me."

I go in and strip down to my boxers just like they instruct. They swab the inside of my nose, my mouth, and my ears. The male doctor takes blood, while his partner labels everything. She takes my pressure and temperature while he measures my reflexes. I felt like a low budget celebrity last time, now I feel like a lab rat.

"Okay, Mr. Smalls. We're going to check your lower extremities. Have you had any close contact with anyone from the other side?"

I look up at the ceiling. "Yes."

Someone spits out their drink outside the tent.

"What!"

"Have you participated in sexual intercourse while away?"

"I wouldn't call it sexual intercourse, per se..."

"Was their penetration?"

"Yes," I say with a sigh.

"You're supposed to be learning their customs, not humping anything that grabs your fancy," Holmes says from beyond the tent flap.

"Agent Holmes, please allow us to do our job." The female doctor gestures to a small table. "You can place your underwear here."

So formal.

I try not to think about it and just drop my shorts. She gasps, the other doctor swears loudly, and I nearly pass out. Agent Holmes rushes in and spills what's left of his coffee all over his shirt.

"Is that a fucking mushroom growing out of your dick?"

Actually the head of my penis is red with white spots, but I understand the confusion.