"Stand down," (Patreon)

I ordered my Ixies, as I used the momentary distraction to break free from Vernier's insidious Wiles.  "This femme has come here on legitimate business and I'm sure she meant no harm."

"Ooh, the little bug-fairies serve you?" Vernier squealed.  "They're so CUTE!"

"No I'm not!" Typantronn snapped indignantly.  "I'll show thee cute, thou oversized floozy!"

"Cool it," I warned.  "All of you withdraw to the dolmen and let me talk to my visitor in peace."

Now that I'd had a moment to think about it, I realized that the new revelations Vernier had brought me did not necessarily have to be as alarming as I had first assumed.  If the secret passphrase that required plants to stand down was widely known, it would have made the Empire's Shrub Knights absolutely useless .. however, all of Faerie had at one time trembled before the leafy hordes.  Therefore, this passphrase was specialized knowledge held by very few elves .. perhaps only by this one individual and the few people he had told.  I was still safe from the majority of would-be invaders.

But why would he tell Vernier his passphrase if he knew that my hairdresser cultists already had a secret sign that granted them admission to the heart of the tulgey wood?  I could only conclude that he wanted me to know about the passphrase, and he told Vernier deliberately so that she would relay the information to me.

Another fact puzzled me:  If this mysterious elf was so interested in meeting me, why had he not come here and introduced himself?  Clearly he knew where I was, he must know that I could not leave this location, and obviously he had the means to get through the woods to my place of refuge and/or confinement.  I could only conclude that the reason he had not come in person was because he was prevented from doing so.  "Uncle Ash" must be bound by a geas that forbade him from approaching too close to the Gate!

I ransacked my memory, trying to think if there was an elvish criminal in the ballads and lore whose crime was heinous enough to warrant such a banishment.  I couldn't think of one, but suddenly became nervous again as I realized (hypothetically) what sort of Unseelie monster might be showing an interest in me.

"I think you will be of great use to me," I stated after what was probably a very awkward pause.  "I have a cult to manage, but I can't leave this circle of stones .. and it's inconvenient at this time to use the means of remote communication which I would ordinarily have at my disposal.  This is where your skills as an administrative assistant will prove invaluable."

"Is THAT all you wanted?" Vernier asked incredulously.  "They said you were looking specifically for skunk femmes."

"Well yes, I am, but -"

"ATTRACTIVE skunk femmes," she continued indignantly.  "And you only want them for secretarial work, eh?  I find that hard to believe."

"Madam, elves do not lie," I insisted loudly, over a strangled outburst from Angela atop the dolmen.  "You'll help my cult organize and balance their books, and you will bring a detailed report along with the supply basket once a week - in exchange for which I will personally style your hair.  We shall continue this arrangement as long as we both find it satisfactory."

"Bookkeeping and reporting to you in person, eh?" she murmured thoughtfully.  "Throw in a gold piece a week for my time and I'll do it."

"Two silver," I countered.

"Make it three."

"Two.  You're also getting a free hairdo, remember."

"All right, but if I don't like the hairstyle, I reserve the right to renegotiate."

"Fair enough," I acquiesced.  "Be sure to use the Scissors sign, not the passphrase Ash taught you.  Oh, and bring one of the Martens with you next time you come.  I have some questions to ask them about their so-called Uncle."

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