The Strangers of Precedent

Vlad had felt strangely alone. After Bobbi left Charmer’s cabin, she’d been distant with everyone. It wasn’t even an angry distancing. She just seemed to be absent, hard to follow when you wanted to talk to her.

Thoth and Frank confirmed Bobbi’s participation going to minimum compared to her previous habits, and she hadn’t spoken to Charmer when she tried to start a conversation in her language. Singe, unsurprisingly, hadn’t seen her at all, and Syren wasn’t awake while Bobbi was.

He had no reason to require this of her, but Vlad needed to talk with Bobbi, any conversation would do. He stayed by the door to the library, waiting for her page shift to end.

He would have missed her if he hadn’t kept looking at the sides of the building out of fear.

“Bobbi!” he caught up to her in a matter of seconds. She didn’t look at him.

“What is it?” Bobbi asked.

“We need to talk,” Vlad said.

She shook her head.

“I don’t think so.”

He stayed with her.

“I understand if you’re angry with me, Thoth, Charmer, Singe, and everyone else who has taken choices from you, but you still need to be safe.”

“I’ll be fine,” Bobbi said, “I haven’t had a problem thus far. Maybe I never needed you.”

“Do you really think you would have survived that first night without me?”

Bobbi was angry, but she wasn’t a fool. She knew her limits.

“I just need more time alone.”

“I’ve given you nearly a month of time alone. I haven’t even been watching you, but you’re not acting like yourself by all reports.”

He gently grabbed her arm, making her stay at the spot. She finally looked him up and down, though turning her eyes down again once the moment was over.

“Fine. I’m not angry anymore, just distracted.”

“Distracted by what?”

“You don’t need to know.”

She slipped out of his hold and sped up. Not fast enough to lose him though.

“Please, Bobbi. I can help you.”

She turned toward him.

“You want to help?”

“Of course.”

“Fine.”

She grabbed his hoodie firmly enough to lift her lips to his. The sensation was better than he’d imagined it, which he’d done more often than was appropriate.

As soon as she dropped back to her height, his rational mind began to work again. It all made sense, why she would be avoiding everyone who knew her, knew her well enough to know what she would and wouldn’t do.

“Bobbi doesn’t feel that way about me, and she’d be a lot angrier if she did.”

He grabbed the impostor’s hand and sniffed it, confirming that Bobbi’s scent was absent, though she didn’t smell like Changeling either.

“You’re coming with me.”

She smiled with Bobbi’s teeth, and her hand moved through his palm as she ran.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled.

He was faster than her as she ran, but she moved through obstacles he had to avoid if he didn’t want to lose all his energy.

Halfway through the woods, he ran into a tree and lost her, scent and all.

Bobbi woke up in a strange room that looked more like the inside of a greenhouse. She looked at the sides of the bed, finding it was in water; most of the greenhouse was submerged, in fact. By the fish she could see, it was a freshwater ecosystem, though none of them were species she could immediately name.

“Don’t worry, they won’t bite you.”

Bobbi looked up to find the source of the voice was a woman in clothes that looked like seaweed, with a slight greenish tint to her skin, that may have just been the surrounding plants.

Bobbi moved off of the bed into the water, and found it very easy to reach the seat, a metal one that when she looked down seemed to have been welded to the floor.

“It’s difficult to build a comfortable environment in the conditions of this world,” the woman said, “Would you like some tea?”

Bobbi shook her head. She wasn’t accepting anything from a strange woman when she didn’t remember how she arrived, especially not in a greenhouse.

“It’s not like I put anything in there that could harm you,” the woman said, “Treeborn like yourself don’t suffer the effects of most poisons.”

“Treeborn?” Bobbi asked, still not accepting the tea.

“The most typical of our kind. I would be called Seaborn, or Kelpborn depending on your definition.”

This was far too much information for someone who’d just woken up. What the hell did she mean?

“So we’re the same kind, but we’re different.”

The woman’s expression turned a lot less kind.

“We’re the last of our kind, child. The mages killed our people.”

Just like Singe mentioned.

“So I am a Feyrie?”

“I don’t think anyone else could naturally have hair like yours.”

Bobbi brought her hair into view. It looked like a pale pink in most lights.

“Strawberry blondes are Fey?”

“I would describe your hair as more of a cherry blossom, but people will normalize themselves when they can.”

Her hair was weird, wasn’t it?

“Yeah, you’re right, but what does Treeborn actually mean, aside from basic?”

“Our people don’t procreate the way humans do. We’re not quite the same flesh and bone. It’s possible to have children in that way, but it’s not natural, or all that safe, for us.”

“Okay?”

“So we put a little bit of ourselves into pieces of the natural landscape, which help gestate the next generation. My parents used a kelp forest for myself, while yours used a tree.”

“So my parents used a tree for a surrogate?” Bobbi asked. Was that why trees protected her?

“A similar concept I suppose, but also our preferred method of birth. You’ve probably noticed a lack of interest in the vulgar affairs of human procreation.”

“Yeah, I never bought into the sex industrial complex. It’s a scam.”

“We don’t generally have any desire for it.”

“Hmm.” so some people did feel like that.

“I have much more to teach you about our people.” the stranger looked hopeful.

“What’s your name?” Bobbi asked, still mistrusting.

“Circeaster, but you may just call me Aster.”

Singe tried to be useful, but he knew he didn’t have much to offer.

A spellcaster could have tracked her in a moment, and someone who paid attention to the lessons he’d been given could search for the tracks of their prey, but instead he just slowed Hecate down.

“Your shame is overwhelming,” Hecate interrupted. She didn’t need him to be mad at himself while searching for the impostor.

“What?” Singe asked.

“I understand about your concern with losing Bobbi, but your shame will not help her.”

“Easy for you to say,” Singe grumbled. He thoroughly blamed himself for losing her, and sadly he wasn’t completely incorrect.

“She may never forgive you for deliberately withholding her heritage,” Hecate told him, “Which you had no right to do.”

“She isn’t a Feyrie,” he insisted.

“She’s not a Mage,” Hecate said, “Certainly not an Empowered, or Thoth’s kind. No Vampire, Demon, Djinn, Angel, Changeling, Raosi, and certainly no Human. Fey have wings, are small, and hair of her color doesn’t come naturally to just any race.”

“It’s strawberry blond,” Singe said.

“It’s pink,” Hecate said, “Like a cherry blossom or some kin. You just don’t want her to endure the hopelessness of losing a people to genocide.”

“So you understand,” Singe said.

“I read your mind,” Hecate said, “It is a minor comparison, but I know what it is to be denied a part of yourself because it would be inconvenient, and I am certainly not going to forgive those who took part in the ruse.”

“What was hidden from you?” Singe asked.

Hecate shook her head. Her past was her own, and she preferred it that way, at least while on Earth.

“Though I hardly think this will convince you to focus, just know that the real Bobbi may be even less likely to talk to you than this false one.”

Singe’s shame turned to something else, but that something else was quiet, which was enough for now.

“Hello again, little Charmer.”

Ripper leaned back on a tree. She stalked toward him, preparing her daggers, but Singe put an arm between them.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

Ripper smiled.

“He’s shorter than the last one.”

She felt Singe’s order of show yourself, directed at Ripper. Ripper didn’t seem to have any reaction.

“Why didn’t it—”

“He isn’t hiding any of his nature,” Hecate explained. “He is here to make a deal.”

“And I expect to have it accepted,” Ripper said, “Because I don’t know if you’ll ever see your friend again.”

“What did you do with Bobbi?” Singe asked.

“I removed a geas, forcing her avoidance of discovery, both from others and herself.”

Bobbi had seemed more willing to learn of herself after the Ripper incident. Hecate just hadn’t connected the dots.

“In exchange for temporary possession,” she concluded.

Ripper gave a calm nod.

“What do you offer?” Hecate asked. His price would inevitably be too high, but knowing the shape of his knowledge would be helpful.

“I offer to tell you where the Feyrie is.”

“How do you know she’s a Feyrie?” Singe asked.

“Because I am older than their absence,” Ripper explained, “Though little Charmer is, barely, younger.”

“And what is it you want?” Hecate asked.

“A night with you, my dear.” he appeared before her, but she grabbed his arm before he could push her chin up to meet his gaze.

“No deal,” she answered. There was nothing she was willing to offer back, and nothing he would be willing to accept.

“I can offer you something,” Singe said.

Ripper laughed.

“There is nothing I want from you that could be more enjoyable than your guilt at causing this kidnapping.”

“Is a dragon’s favor worthless to you?”

“There is nothing for you here,” Hecate said, “Go.”

“The boy’s right,” Ripper said, walking around them, this time focusing on Singe, “A Feyrie for her dragon isn’t a bad deal.”

“Leave us,” she ordered, as she should have ordered him before Singe could open his mouth.

Ripper cringed, glaring at her.

“Very well, little Charmer.” he looked down on her as he disappeared.

“Why would you do that?” Singe asked.

“Trading yourself to a demon, even to save another, will not end well,” she insisted, “I have explained this to you before.”

“What about Bobbi?” he asked, “How are we going to explain that you left her to rot when we had the chance to find her directly?”

“All he had to tell us is where Bobbi was when you made the deal. He could tell it to you in a riddle, one long enough that they could move her before we would even know where she was, or he could lead us to a corpse. Not to mention that we don’t know how this non-Changeling shapeshifts. Perhaps she’s taken something from Bobbi for the illusion.”

That quieted Singe down.

“And what if it just worked?” Singe asked.

“That won’t happen,” Hecate assure him, “That’s not how my kind work.”

“Even you?”

“Compared to most, I am rather upfront, but yes, even me.”

“What are you hiding?” Singe asked in slightly joking tone.

“Many things, few of them for you to know.”

She expanded her mind to try finding the impostor.

“This way.”

“I’m impressed,” Aster said, watching Bobbi wield the elements in the gardens on the same grounds as Aster’s greenhouse.

“Well I can’t do fire yet,” Bobbi explained.

“You shouldn’t be able to wield elements beyond those natural to you in the first place.”

“What?”

Everything returned to normal and Bobbi fell to the ground.

“Ow.”

“Here,” Aster said, “Allow me to show you.”

She fanned her hand out, making the water of the nearby fountain separate into curlicues.

“Hiding something in there?” Bobbi asked.

“No,” Aster said, pulling a bleached fan of coral out of a pocket. She pointed it to the ground, shaking it until several pillars of earth formed around them. The pillars went back down, and hedges started growing. Then the hedges paused and wind gusted around them for a minute. After the wind died out, Aster revealed a small fire held on her fan of coral. The fire became pure light as the heat left it. The light turned to shadow, and Aster put her coral fan back.

“What was that?” Bobbi asked.

“A display of power using, more importantly, a wand.”

“A wand?” Bobbi asked, “Fey use wands?”

The legend had to come from somewhere of course, but Bobbi still hadn’t expected it to be true.

“You may find several pass through your hands in your lifetime. For more complex craft, you’ll likely want a staff, but a wand should make it easier to extend your abilities.”

“Can I borrow yours?”

Aster shook her head.

“It has to come from you,” she explained, “Something suffused with your craft. Mine is from the same place I grew. I carried it as a reminder for years until the piece of driftwood I had before snapped.”

“So it has to be something I carry on me? And what do you mean craft?”

“Mages call their work magek, or spells. We call ours craft.”

“And the first question?” Bobbi asked.

“I’m not sure I can explain it any further. You need something that’s practically a part of you.”

Bobbi rifled through her pockets for anything close to that description. She’d made sure the pockets of her shorts went as deep as possible when making them. Then she realized.

“I make my own clothes.”

“What?”

“Most of what I wear is handmade, by me. They’re literally my craft.”

Aster looked skeptical.

“I know it’s a stretch, but you can’t pretend there’s nothing special there.”

She stuck her hands in her pockets, closed her eyes, and focused on fire.

“C’mon,” She begged.

After a minute, she opened her eyes, initially disappointed at the lack of flame.

“Dammit.”

Aster gestured for her to look down.

Bobbi’s tank top was stitched with flame. She reeled back, falling into the fountain.

“And here I thought wearing less clothes was helping,” Bobbi said, “I’ll at least start wearing long sleeves again.”

Aster laughed.

“I knew wand was a more generic term than humans interpreted, but that was unexpected. I think you need something better concentrated for control.”

“Right,” Bobbi said, “Of course. How about a scarf.”

“A scarf might work.”

Bobbi grabbed Aster for a hug. She was a bit slimy, but that was amazing.

“Thank you.”

She had so many ideas for what she’d do.

“I’m going to need some yarn.”

Franklin watched Drake’s concern with intrigue. Drake had of course been concerned about Bobbi since their first meeting, but the desperation was unique.

“What did the impostor do to make you so desperate to find them again?”

Drake didn’t answer, instead moving forward. He’d disagreed with the pairings, saying they could cover more ground individually, but Thoth insisted on joining someone likely to spot the impostor with someone unlikely as their backup. Frank had been offended about being in the unlikely category, but he’d had the false Bobbi sitting quietly in his classroom and thought nothing of it.

“Your feelings for our confusing companion are clear, so maybe it’s just your desperation to see her again, or perhaps your desire to get vengeance on those who would take her.”

“You could afford to stop talking,” Drake said, looking unabashedly into another window.

They had taken the town and school grounds, while Hecate and Singe had taken the forest, and Thoth and Syren managed the wealthy neighborhood.

Frank watched around.

“Are you sure you don’t know what the scent was?”

He watched the people walking the streets. None of them looked like they could be shapeshifters, but that was the point to some extent.

Just by Juliet Emery’s shop, Drake paused.

“No,” he said.

“No what?” Frank asked.

“Juliet was right.”

“She often is. About what?”

He pulled out a vial of the semi-translucent product made from the veins of Juliet’s servant.

“I need to feed myself more,” he said.

“What does that mean?”

Drake opened his vial, took a whiff, then closed it and returned it to his pocket.

“It means Bobbi’s impostor is a Djinn.”

That was bad. Djinn had the power of souls. A Changeling would be leaving Bobbi unscathed. A Demon might root around in her mind, but she would still be safe. The way a Djinn imitated someone else couldn’t be comfortable for their victim.

“Bobbi may be in greater danger than we thought.”

Frank searched the crowd more intently. He was no longer searching for a shapeshifter, so much as someone slightly translucent. It wasn’t a perfect system, but it was better than his previous attempt.

“We should check with Juliet if this is a Djinn.”

“Why?” Drake asked.

“Because she knows more than us, and with the company she keeps, it may very well be upstairs.”

“I don’t get it though,” Bobbi said, “What happened to my parents?”

“What do you mean?” Aster asked.

They’d gone on walks of the grounds around the building. It was a strange experience initially, as Bobbi stood taller than someone for what felt like the first time in her life. Aster had let her know that she was actually tall by fey standards.

“You’ve implied that Fey are long-lived,” Bobbi elaborated, “And I’m only in my twenties. Did something happen to my parents?”

“Why do you ask?”

“If we’re the last two, then my parents had to have been in at least the last ten. You had to have known of them if you know about me. Speaking of, why would you leave me to grow up around humans if you knew I existed?”

Aster didn’t make a comment for a few moments.

“Yes, I knew your parents. We had disagreements. I didn’t know you were alive until recently.”

“How did you find out?”

“A friend of a friend learned about you, and then the information came to me.”

“But why kidnap me?”

Aster’s expression looked confused.

“I didn’t kidnap you.”

“No,” the last thing Bobbi remembered was leaving Charmer’s cabin after arguing with the others, “I think it would be easier to remember how I got here if I wasn’t kidnapped.”

“We had to run from your former companions,” Aster explained, “The red-haired one seemed to bark an order in a language I didn’t understand, and then you fell asleep. You don’t remember?”

Charmer had ordered her around in Raosi before, and she was psychic of some sort.

“So she removed my memory of running from them?”

“That has to be it,” Aster said, “And the pale one, he seemed desperate to come after you, but when we offered for him to come too, he refused. Afraid something would find him.”

“How could they find him here?”

Bobbi looked at the mansion whose grounds they’d used. Aster had kept her outside with the greenhouse. She had no idea if anyone was inside. She could swear she saw a pale figure in one of the windows.

There had been someone pale before too, but not Vlad.

“I didn’t ask many questions after they started chasing us,” Aster said.

“Right,” Bobbi nodded, turning away from the building. They’d chased her before, “So I didn’t get to say goodbye?”

“Not if we wanted to save our necks.”

“Syren’s never going to forgive me,” Bobbi realized, “And my classes!”

Aster blew the notion off.

“Human desires, not ours.”

“Yes actually,” Bobbi stood up straighter, “My desires. I have goals, and a career to think about. I’m not going to drop them just because you told me to.”

“How long have you had these goals?” Aster asked.

“Since I was a kid. I’ve always felt more comfortable around books than other people, and I want a chance to extend that to others.”

“Others like the Demon?”

“No, not Charmer. She and I aren’t—don’t get along.”

“Such a tragedy,” Aster said, “But you never have to see her again. Just stay with me.”

Bobbi recoiled from the hand Aster was offering. She was right. There was something wrong here. The pale figure, almost translucent, and a voice, but not the voice.

It said this was because Bobbi knew now, like it was waiting until the moment she figured out her heritage.

Just who was Aster friends with?

Bobbi backed away, trying to build some distance, but she tripped over stone, that she knew hadn’t been raised a moment before.

“Please, Bobbi.”

“You kidnapped me,” she grabbed her scarf, building a wall of thorns between them. “I don’t care if you’re the only other feyrie I’ll meet in my life, I can’t trust you.”

Aster flew over the wall. Her wings looked like a flying fish, disappearing when she landed in front of Bobbi.

“You don’t know anything, child.”

“I’m not a child, and I know plenty.” she backed away, forcing the ground to stay stable behind her, “You’re involved with whoever kidnapped me, maybe even whoever made me leave so many foster families.”

“That must have been because they weren’t your people.”

“But they cared about me.” the hedges grew with her agitation, “If you care so much about having another Feyrie with you, why aren’t my parents here? Why are you on Earth, and not some hidden part of Feyla like would make sense? If you were involved with the voice, how do I know you weren’t lying about any of it?”

Aster stopped moving forward.

“It doesn’t matter, since you won’t remember this anyway.”

“What?” Bobbi asked, falling back into fountain again.

“Our paths shouldn’t cross again, child,” Aster said, looking down on her, “You could have been a valuable ally, but I think you deserve to be alone.”

Bobbi splashed the water next to her into a club to knock Aster down, but with a flick of her wrist, Aster redirected it to a sharp point aimed at Bobbi’s throat.

“I implore you to behave, if you wish to see your friends again.”

Syren glared down the impostor. It explained why Bobbi had stopped talking to her when she was uninvolved in the whole mess Drake never shared the details of.

She couldn’t believe she hadn’t realized this was a fake, because now that she looked at her it was obvious. Bobbi could be quiet, but not still like this person was.

Not-Bobbi looked forward, ignoring all their gazes, like ignoring them could somehow save her.

“What did you do to Bobbi?” Syren suddenly asked, as it was clear silence wasn’t going to make her talk.

“I am merely doing a favor for an ally,” she explained.

“And what is that favor?” Drake asked.

The impostor looked at him like he was an idiot.

“Whoever asked this favor of you, frightens you,” Charmer said, no question in her tone.

“Of course not,” the impostor said.

“Then your benefactor scares you, and more than any of us ever could.”

The impostor seemed to tense for a moment. Charmer was right.

“We could protect you,” Thoth offered, “Potentially. You’re clearly not among the familiar.”

“I have no need or desire for protection.”

“A guardian then,” Charmer concluded, “They frighten you, but they keep you safer than anyone else could. Your fear might even be more about losing them than what they might do to you.”

“Are you speaking from experience?” the impostor asked in a barbed tone.

Charmer gave a slight nod that made everyone pointedly look anywhere but her. Charmer seemed so self-reliant, they’d never questioned when she had learned that skill.

“Then you understand loyalty,” the impostor said.

Charmer made no response this time.

“She will tell us nothing,” Frank said, “I say we lock her in Bobbi’s room so she won’t cause any more trouble. We can rotate who stays on the doors and who stays at the windows.”

They nodded. Frank was right.

Bobbi woke up with a headache. The last thing she remembered was leaving Charmer’s cabin after finding out Singe had hidden an entire race from her.

She probably wasn’t a Feyrie anyways, just an unidentifiable freak. She’d live with it, and move on.

But when did she get back to her room? Had she blacked out about five feet off? Drake would have brought her back, but he wouldn’t have changed her into pajamas like she was wearing. She smelled them, as if expecting anything but the typical scent of her sweat.

She checked her desk, where a week’s worth of homework had been done, a week that she had no recollection of as she looked through each of them. The date was a month later than when she’d left the cabin.

She put the papers down. She’d have to find Charmer, get her to rifle through her head and figure out how she could forget a month of classes and everything else in between when there was homework and notes in her handwriting.

It was too late to use the door. Syren would hear it, and she didn’t want to talk to anyone whose conversations she’d lost. Charmer would understand though.

She dressed for the trip to the cabin, absentmindedly adding a scarf to the ensemble before opening the window and jumping down.

As she turned to leave, Vlad grabbed her arm.

“Going back to your master?” the question sounded like an order to stop moving.

“What the fuck?”

Vlad hadn’t threatened her since he’d confused her for a burglar, if you didn’t count the smelling sweet comment he made after the Vampires. That felt like almost a year ago now. It was almost a year ago.

Vlad sniffed her.

“What was that for?” Bobbi demanded.

He let go, giving her momentary relief before grabbing her for a hug.

“What the fuck?”

Vlad released her almost as quickly as he grabbed her, keeping his hands on her arms as he watched her intently.

“Do you know where you were?”

“The last thing I remember before I woke up in there,” she pointed back up at her window, “Was leaving Charmer’s cabin. Don’t tell anyone about the memory loss though. I don’t want anyone to worry before I can talk to her about it.”

“Bobbi,” he said, “You were missing.”

“What? No, there’s schoolwork done.”

“You had a Doppelgänger or something,” he explained, “Doing the bare minimum of your life, since you were mad last we’d seen you, we didn’t think it odd that she was avoiding us.”

Well that was offensive. Yes, she needed to blow off some steam, but she could surely process that much within a month.

“How did you figure out it wasn’t me?”

He glanced to the side as he explained, “I got fed up and confronted her. She made it clear she wasn’t you within a conversation.”

“What did she say to tip you off?”

“She just acted wrong,” he said, “Definitely not how you would.”

As much as she wanted to pry, she had to start on resolving anything that went wrong, and catching up on schoolwork.

The crimson beauty and her giant companion. Thoth had been trailing them for nearly a year now. The woman lived up to her moniker, with deep red hair and a striking face, though none of the rumors mentioned just how tall she was. Her companion was taller still, over seven feet by Thoth’s estimation, possibly more.

The pair seemed fond of each other, their hands drifting close, though never actually being held. He probably feared crushing her.

It’s rude to stare, a woman’s voice instructed in his mind. Thoth smiled, waving at them. He had his proof of all he needed.

I come to offer an opportunity, he explained, You are hardly the only strangers in this world.

The companions walked over to his table. The woman sat across from him, and the man stood perpendicular to both of them. It was now clear who was in charge between them.

“What do you mean, strangers?” she asked.

“There are the familiar humans, some might call them regular or normal, but they all belong among their kind. Then there’s people like us, strangers, with something or other that sets us apart. The lucky ones can assimilate among the familiar, may never realize how different they are. Then there’s us.”

“Us?” the woman asked.

“You messaged me through our minds, and your companion clearly wears those glasses for a reason. In the spirit of honesty, I have the ability to quickly heal from almost any injury, even mortal ones.”

The woman seemed unimpressed, but her companion seemed to focus on Thoth.

“What do you want from us?” the woman asked.

“A long-term agreement: Your skills for my resources.”

“What skills do you ask of us?”

Thoth shrugged.

“This isn’t mercenary work of any kind. This is a friendship, and I have many friends.”

“We prefer our solitude,” the man finally said, his accent sounded more Central European than expected.

“You will care for us if we care for you in return?” the woman asked.

“Just so, and also care for strangers less aware of our number, as the case may be.”

“I accept,” the woman said.

“My—”

The woman held a hand up before her companion could say anything in objection, “You are not obligated, darling. We may part ways if you can’t stomach the idea of friends to help us.”

“I accept,” The man growled. Thoth smiled.

“Welcome then, new friends, to The Coven.”