"Oho," I cackled, (Patreon)

pretending not to be surprised by this new information.  "So that's where the Scriptorium is, is it?  Sure an' but how's our lad going to PAY for foive copies, an' how soon is it they'll be finished?"

"They aren't super expensive," Ethel shrugged.  "Jerry will spend out of his secret 'Shoe Fund' if he thinks it will further his ambition.  And they'll have a lot more than five copies on hand.  It's their mainstay, a fairly popular book which basically put the publisher in business, so yeah, they make sure they've got plenty to sell."

"Faith an' begorrah," I exclaimed.  "Sure an' have the lowfolk mastered the art o' magickally duplicatin' manuscripts then?"

This was serious!  If the lowfolk knew even the most basic of magicks, it could spell trouble for elfkind!

"Great Auk," Ethel sighed.  "I'm starting to think you might really be an elf.  Nobody else could be this obtuse, and keep up the act so consistently.  Look, there's no such thing as magic."

"How is it oi'm talkin' to ye out o' the thin air then?" I asked indignantly.

"No such thing," Ethel insisted.  "Magic may work for you, but it doesn't work for us.  So we don't laze around eating ambrosia and throwing pies and counting on some mystical force to take care of us.  No, see, what we do is we apply our ingenuity to a problem, and solve it by good honest work.  There's a machine that was invented way back in the old days, more than fifty years ago.  You may have heard of it?  The printing press?"

"Do go on .." I prompted.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?  I swear, you elves are the most backward people I ever heard of.  You still use the feudal system, and what do you do all day?  NOTHING!  Just flit around catching butterflies and singing elf-songs and playing baglutes.  When's the last time you did anything new or made any progress?  We make things!  We innovate!  We specialize!  One person makes ink, and another person makes paper, and the printer sets blocks of type and uses the press to duplicate them as many times as needed.  Division of labor increases production AND gives everyone more liesure time, and as a consequence more people are literate.  Do you even know how to read?"

"Of course I do," I retorted, slightly offended.

"Your accent slipped," she scoffed.  "But seriously, what are you doing right now?"

"Oi'm usin' a faresome powerful scryin' spell -" I began.

"MAGIC!" Ethel shouted.  "LAZY!  Cutting corners all the time!  Never do anything with your own hands!  You're too dainty to do any real work!  That's why elves are LAME!"

"We are not," I pouted.  "We've got great art and buildings and culture!  If only you could see it, you'd understand.  Faerie was great back when you guys were still living in caves."

"Prove it," she snapped.  "Right now, all you are is a floating voice in my head."

"About that," I said.  "Sure an' what is it ye were sayin' about voices an' settin foires when oi arrived?"

"Nothing!" Ethel declared, as she backed up against the bureau.

"An' what moight be in that bureau that yer so protective of?"

"What bureau??  There's no bureau here!"

"Sure an' there is, roight behind ye," I pointed out.

"Crap, you can SEE me?" she blurted nervously.  "How long have you been spying on me?  Huh, elf?  How long?  Yeah yeah, I concede, you're an elf all right.  Who else would magically spy on a helpless femme?"

"Sure an' oi haven't spied on you at all, at all!" I protested.  "This is the farst toime oi've even seen the place."

"Whatever, elf.  I've got you figured out.  Look, you want food and you want somebody to ogle because you've been trapped alone in Albric Tor ever since the battle.  I've read the Chanson!  I know the score!  I can give you what you want, but you've gotta get rid of Jerry.  I mean PERMANENTLY!  You have two days till he gets back, to come up with a plan.  Now get outta my room and quit peeping in on me."

I quickly WHOOSHed back to my scry-space and reeled away in a daze from the tree-shaped hole.  By Fuma, what a fascinating & captivating creature that lowfolk femme was!  Her sass!  Her temper!  Her figure!  Her sheer brazen chutzpah!  Add all of that to the tragic secret burden she bore, the mystery of the pyromaniac voices ... and it added up to a delicious, fiesty yet vulnerable package of delirious desire!

Oh Ethel, somehow I would make you mine!!

A second later I woke from the trance ... BLAST IT!  Ethel's bewitching Wiles got the better of me again!  I mentally reviewed the conversation and was relieved to note that I had not made any regrettable promises.  I was going to have to be careful dealing with her.  Was there any way to protect myself from her seductive influence?  I thought my training with Sheila Na Gig had prepared me for anything, but this was an order of magnitude beyond what I had thought was possible.

Two days .. I needed to practice my magick and sharpen all of my skills before our next meeting.  She would not gain the advantage so easily again!  I also needed to use the Voice of the Forest to consult with local trees and get some intel about the area which might help me come up with a way to remove Jerry from the picture.  I could also perhaps use my Ixies as scouts.

Hmm .. I wasn't sure I could trust the Ixies.  They claimed to honor bonds of kinship between us, since I was their sire (or possibly grandsire by now, depending on how long I spent moping in the tower after the battle..) but I knew they really worked for the highest bidder.  What was the currency in which they were paid?  Was it sugar?  I knew they liked sugar.  it might be a good idea for me to get some.

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