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Royesland [Full]

Tuesday hummed the first few notes for her again until her song rippled around the glade. He sat back and shut his eyes- even if his arch nemesis was in his new suitress's lap, because that's what Molly's music made it almost impossible not to do. But a soft sound at the edge of the pond drew his attention and when he peeked one eye open he saw the dark heads of the nymps poking up along the shore, water flowers bedraggled their hair and they all wore white and looked quite drownt and beautiful in the soft daylight.
Pisquataqua was bravest that day and was the first to begin to sing along. then Merimac's high supra no and the rushing alto of Ossipees proud voice until Molly had attracted the whole chorus of Nymphs.

The difrence between a nymph and a siren laid not in their singing abilities but int eh frequency that enjoyed drowning men. And the Nymph of port of pearls spring were known, amung the fae of roesland for their singing only slightly more than their gossiping.
 
When Riley and Lockette arrived at the over grown stone house at the edge of the forest Riley was once again filled with a sudden source less sense of betrayal. She was no mason but the walls seemed solid still. The house had been built by her great grandfather and she suspected the walls at least would be standing for generations more. The floor inside was home to moss, weeds, a creeping rose and a medium sized birch tree.
"Its not so bad-" She said as she stepped over the threshold. She yelped as Lockette pulled her back outside by the back of her collar- just as the rotten roofing collapsed.
 
When they had first drawn close to this glade, Molly had begun to feel a buzzing kind of nervous energy from the magic all around them. She could sense it gathering in her again now, stoking the fire of the usual joyous rush she felt when she put her heart to song.

It took a moment for her to register the voices joining in, so carried away was she by the music. They drifted in gradually at the edge of her awareness, until finally Molly realized she'd been playing the song in a round with the most beautiful harmony she'd ever heard. When she looked for its source, she understood exactly who had been singing along.

She ended her part of the round and found herself staring in wonderment at the dangerously pretty Nymphs of the waterfall, gathered on the shore of their pond. One by one, they drew the round to an end and gazed mischievously back at her.

There was a brief quiet in the clearing as the last echoes bounced off the quartz cliffs and faded. "Oh." Molly's face went bright pink again. "Um. Hello?"
 
And as the music drew to a close and her speaking voice broke the hush of the glen the nymphs scattered back into the spring, their departures making sounds similar to the plop of a startled frog hopping away. But Piscataqua remained, arms crossed over one of the living oaks roots and her cheek rest on the root.
"Do you think you'll be bringing her to Duke of Foxes Coronation?" She asked Tuesday.
he paused, tension quivering in his jaw, "I very much doubt it."
She giggled, blew Molly a kiss and slipped back into the spring.
 
Cathal had closed his eyes and nearly fallen asleep in Molly's lap when she started playing, but the sound of the nymphs jolted him back awake, and he sat up and watched them. He'd never seen them before, though he'd been in this glade many times before.

But they knew Tuesday. Cathal frowned and looked at him at the one nymph's comment. As much as he disliked Tuesday, and especially at the moment, Tuesday was mostly a benevolent fae prince, as far as these things went. The Duke of Foxes...not so much. Tuesday stole girls away for a night or two. The Duke of Foxes stole them away forever.

"Mrrow?" Cathal asked Tuesday, because the Duke of Foxes as the Forest King was deeply concerning, and any other time Tuesday and Tom would have grudgingly decided to cooperate to take care of it. But Tom was gone, and Tuesday wasn't fae, and he was a cat, and what were they supposed to do?
 
Tuesday squinted at him, "If you weren't a cat I wouldn't be a man, and that's just how simple it is! Perhaps in the future you'll keep your stupid wizard on a tighter leash!"
 
"Mrreowpft??" Cathal said, staring at Tuesday. At first it didn't make any sense--why would the Apple Hag curse Tuesday because of him? And then the second bit of information hit.

Oh.

Oh no.

How was he supposed to explain all of this when he was a cat?

He looked at Tuesday and flopped down in Molly's lap like a fallen leaf and made the smallest, saddest little noise a big cat could make, because it was, in a very round about way, his fault, and he was sorry for Tuesday.
 
Molly had given an offended gasp at the nymph's cheeky remark, but held her tongue from any impolite reaction she might've had. Instead her attention was grabbed by the exchange between Tuesday and his nemesis. Although concern for her new friends sat uneasily in the pit of her stomach, their back-and-forth at first made her laugh, dissolving the anger that flared up a moment before.

Tuesday's sharp reprimand and the cat's sudden upset soon erased the cheer she'd felt, however. "Oh, honey!" she exclaimed as Tubs collapsed on her legs. "What's the matter?"

Brows furrowed, she looked over at Tuesday. "Well that was an extremely loaded statement," she said, the underlying what the fuck? clear in her tone. "I thought you couldn't talk about this-" she gestured vaguely, "-big magic thing. What wizard? And what does him being a cat and all have to do with you?" The new information only had her more confused. "If you can't tell me, at least point me in the direction of how we can start fixing this before things get any worse."
 
"Well its his fault that-" Tuesday began to explain but the words stuck in his throat. Phrasing it just so in his anger had managed to just sneak past the spells filter. "It was- He- I was minding my own business when-" After a moment he gave up again, "I'm sorry Molly sils. I wouldn't want you mixed up with the Duke of Foxes, so perhaps its for the best."
 
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"No." She was starting to be angry again, and when Molly was angry she was stubborn. "I'm a big girl, and while I appreciate the concern, I can handle myself." She thought of her tantrum earlier in the day but immediately quashed the memory back down.

"Curses don't just get better all by themselves. Actually- and I know I'm not an expert, but- I'm pretty sure they usually get worse. Do you want to be stuck like this forever?" She made eye contact with them both, then sighed.

She liked Tuesday, more than she was entirely comfortable with. But freedom was the value Molly held highest; if he had been changed into something he wasn't against his will, to not help him get his life back would make her little better than those who'd tried to do the same to her.

"I'm sorry. I know I'm way overstepping for some random musician just passing through town. If you really don't want me to, I won't get involved." She played with one of Tubs' front paws absently while with the other hand, she finally went for it and touched Tuesday gently on the arm. "But I want to help you, if you'll let me. If you can't try to fix things because of the magic you're under, what's better than having an outsider who can move freely on your team?" Molly smiled. "Please?"
 
It was clear that Tuesday wasn't used to being read the riot act by the look on his face. He was certain, as he had stated before, that Truffle would come to collect him soon and while he was not having the best time in port of pearls as a man- not sitting in glade with good company was by far not miserable- he had not yet come to truly concern for his long term well being- Magpies were a bit like grasshoppers when it came to long term plans.
"Well," he said, not wanting to ever tell Molly Sils no again even if it was for her own good after that, "It couldn't hurt to see what the wizard has in his tower."
He suggested it because it was true. Maybe if he was lucky the Wizard had left behind an antidote in his rush to flee port of pearls. But also he suggested it because he was not alowed in teh wizards tower and as a magpie, a fairy and a king he needed to put his grubby man hands on everything the wizard owned as revenge.
 
Tubs' unexpected shriek made Molly jump. Rattled, she put her hand to her heart. "Oh my- don't scare me like that," she laughed, embarrassed.

She looked down at him. "I'm assuming that means you disagree? Because if you have a better suggestion, I'd love to hear it." There was a pause, and then she thought to clarify, "that was- I'm being facetious. Sorry.

"If there's a reason we shouldn't go to the tower, like it's dangerous or something, I'll grant you that's reasonable. And I suppose I don't know we'd even realize if we found something useful. I really don't know anything about proper magic, at least."

Molly reached into the chest pocket of her overalls and drew out another hair ribbon. Thoughtfully, she tied her hair back again. "We could ask that Apollo fellow, maybe. Although didn't he say transformation magic wasn't his thing? But maybe he could direct us toward someone who would know?" She shrugged. "No matter what, it's probably still worth a try."

She picked up her harmonica from where she'd sat it on the picnic blanket and started wrapping it back up in its case. "Say, how come there isn't a wizard in the wizard tower, anyway?"
 
"Oh," Tuesday said like he'd finally been asked a question he knew the answer to in algebra class, so with a bit of surprise an delight, "Someone broke his heart and then he finally agreed to go fight the kings war in the east. I am mildly concerned he wont be back." he helped her gather up the picnic things and let himself get excited about going where he didn't belong.
 
The tower was on the other side of the Golden Serpent's River, across the bridge and to the edge of the wood. From the outside it looked nearly a ruin, down to the scarlet door leaning against the frame, and the ivy and jasmine crawling up the sides. Cathal looked up at it, wishing he'd find Tom at the top, and knowing he wouldn't. He skittered through the doorway first, since the tower would know him, and know Molly and Tuesday as his guests after.

The door lead into a little hall, left open to the elements, and moss and lichen had begun to grow on the floor and the walls and abandoned coat rack, and even on the rather ugly oilskin cloak Cathal had left behind on a hook. If they followed the little hall to the end, they'd come to the kitchen, surely covered in dust and neglect by now, but in Cathal's memory it was all bright cupboards and copper pots, and a row of ugly mugs hanging over the little potbellied stove the perfect size for cupping in both hands while waiting for bread to rise.

The stairs up were there as well, curled around the side of the building and up, to further floors full of of Tom's things: rooms of precarious towers of books and walls pinned with maps and paintings and tapestries, thick rugs on old wood floors, tables of beakers and tins of potion ingredients, staffs and antheme and other, stranger things that Cathal had never quite figured out the purpose of. But Tom probably thought the same of some of his instruments, which had once lived tidily together before venturing further afield to seek their fortunes in the rest of the tower. The tin whistles might have have been reproducing, he was sure he had more of them now than he had when he'd moved in. And the smell of old paper and sharp herb and the stormcloud smell of magic permeated the tower. It was a proper wizard's tower, cluttered and cunning and not without danger, but it was home.

And at the very top floor was their bedroom, with its big bed full of quilts and the big brass telescope out the window, and if Tuesday went in there and rummaged through their wardrobe Cathal thought he might have to kill him.
 
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Molly's heart had weighed heavily in her chest since they'd left the waterfall and made the trek back through the Port to the wizard's tower. It had taken her a little walking and thinking to put it together- in her defense, she was an outsider here- but between what Tuesday had said and the air of melancholy surrounding the cat, she'd figured it out.

Someone broke his heart… keep your stupid wizard on a tighter leash…

Oh.

Seeing the tower in its state of disrepair made her feel even worse. She didn't have to use her seeing stone to tell there was magic in this place- or, once they'd crossed the threshold, how loved it had once been. Taking in a deep breath, below the slightly musty, mildewy stink, she imagined the tower smelled a little like Tubs did, no matter how long it had been since he'd last been here.

Or maybe she was just making that up.

"Well…" It felt strange to speak suddenly, the group having traveled mostly in silence. She looked down at Tubs, anxiously twisting and untwisting the straps of her bag. "What should we look for first?" Molly found herself intentionally having to keep from whispering, as if speaking aloud would disturb something she didn't want to frighten away.
 
"I have no idea," Tuesday said as he rushed up the stairs. He disapeared from view quickly and all that could be heard was his footsteps, laughter and something hitting the floor with a loud wet fwoosh. "Oops! not that, then!"
 

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