Well, that took care of Jerry for a while. (Patreon)

How long would it take him to gather five copies of the book and bring them back, I wondered?  Maybe I should have asked for more.

I thought about remaining in Fauxfox-form, since the lowfolk had been much more courteous toward me, and hadn't persistently demanded shoes.  Then again, transmogrification disguises did have a tendency to become habit-forming the longer one stayed in them.  And what would Jerry want from me, when and if he returned with the books?  I realized with a shudder that shoes were probably the best thing he could demand from Relda Fauxfox, at least from my point of view.

Maybe I could get my Ixies to make shoes for me ...  I would have to pursue that angle when the time came.  But for now, it were best if I changed back to my normal self.  However, I probably shouldn't do it out here in the open where somebody might potentially see.

I had pooked from the scryspace out here to the stone circle; theoretically I should be able to pook back.  The only difficulty was that I had been able to see my destination out here, but on the way back I would have to do it "blind."  This could be risky ... but I was going to have to learn to do it eventually anyway.  Might as well try now.  What did I have to lose?

I concentrated very carefully on visualizing every detail of the scrying chamber, and mentally placing myself within it.

A second later, I was in the chamber, in front of the orb, only two inches above the floor.  "Not bad!" I thought, as I landed and bounced up & down excitedly.  A very precise pook for my first attempt without looking!

Now that I was alone, I transmogrified back into my regular form and entered the scry-space.

Supposedly this device had been used for remote viewing, back in the days of the DV, so I thought I might be able to extend my perceptual range if I directed my attention toward points farther away.  After peering through the tree-shaped hole at the stone circle outside, I gazed up toward the treetops and willed my vantage point up there.

Almost immediately I felt a physical lurch as if I had pooked, but I was slammed back through the hole into my scry-space.  Had I just collided with the edge of Edessa's imprisoning geas?  At any rate, I didn't want to pook to the treetops - I just wanted to see from there.  I leaned back into the hole and tried again.

This time I shot up with stomach-churning speed to a point above the trees.  I spun around and spied a village on the edge of the forest, a few miles away.  Could this be Tulgeyside?  I concentrated on Ethel and felt a sudden tug of yearning (by Fuma, her Wiles were potent!) drawing me toward the town.

My vision whizzed over the landscape with a speed that made me dizzy and slightly nauseated.

I seemed to pass right through the roof of a house, and into a room where Ethel was pacing nervously.

"Ahem," I said, politely.

"WHOZAT??" Ethel snapped, cringing while simultaneously lunging toward a low bureau.  "If you voices are back, what I told you before still stands.  I'm not torching the town til you deliver on your end of the bargain."

"Uhh, top o' the blarney to ye," I stammered.  "Sure an' what is it ye moight be on about then?"

"Oh, is that you, Lord Randall?" she said, standing up and visibly relaxing.  "Still sticking to the accent, even by telepathy huh?  Well you're determined, I'll give you that."

"Sure an' this proves oi'm an elf, does it not?"

"Not completely, but it's a point in your favor," Ethel conceded.  "Jerry just rushed through and packed a rucksack for a two days' journey.  Said something about a beauteous fae lady.  Was that any of your doing?"

"Oi moight have sent the lad on a wee bit of a quest," I chuckled.  "One he'll not foind easy to complete."

"What did you tell him?"

"He's off to collect foive copies o' the Chanson du Percy," I gloated.

"Uhh," Ethel interjected, with a disappointed look.  "You do know he can just go to Percysthorpe and buy them, right?"

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