"No. We're fine." I noticed the tremendous crystal chandelier over our heads. It caught every beam of candlelight and reflected it in a cascade of colors.
The servant dismissed himself as Wyst returned from the stable. He seated himself beside the bread, folded his arms, and studied the loaf.
Gwurm prodded the roast boar with his fingers, which he then licked. Newt eyed the troll.
"Well? It's poisonous, isn't it? It has to be poisonous."
Gwurm took a rib and sucked the meat off it. He rolled the flesh from cheek to cheek, poking it with his tongue while chewing. He shrugged, swallowed, and gobbled down the bone. "Seems fine." He sat and tore off the boar's snout. "Excellent, just the proper chewiness."
Newt turned his back to the table. "I'm not eating any of it. If it's not poisoned, it's something worse. Your guts will probably rot away now."
"Some things are worth the risk." Gwurm swallowed a juicy red apple and an uncooked rabbit in one bite. He must've liked the two together because he tried an orange and hen combination next. It met with a satisfied grin.
"You're going to regret eating that," muttered Newt.
"Probably," said Gwurm. "Boar gives me heartburn. Pass some of that goose over, would you, please?"
Newt perked up. "Did you say goose?" He hopped onto the table and licked his bill over the succulent bird.
"You eat goose?" Gwurm stuck out his tongue.
"It's my second favorite."
"But you're a duck."
Newt closed his eyes and inhaled the goose's tempting aroma. "A carnivorous duck."
"Yes, but, well, it just doesn't seem right."
"Birds eat birds every day."
"Big birds eat little birds," said Gwurm. "That goose is twice your size."
"And perfectly seared." Newt smacked his bill. Demons are suspicious by nature but they're also easily tempted. He stood poised over the goose indecisively.
I did him a favor and helped him make up his mind. It was an inevitable decision anyway.
"Is that duck I smell?" I asked.
"Duck? Where?" He found his prey, a raw bird on a platter, and attacked. He tore off a wing and gulped it down.
Gwurm grimaced. "Now that is definitely just wrong."
Newt was far too busy tearing into his meal to bother with a curt response.
I took the bread and cut a thick slice that I offered to Wyst. He accepted it with a smile and passed a plate of raw turkey strips. We ate in silence, save for the crackle of the fire and the tearing and crunching of duck frenetically feasting upon duck.
"I'll say this for Soulless Gustav." Newt belched. "He knows how to treat a guest."
"He's mad," I said, "not rude."
Wyst excused himself. "I want to be rested for tomorrow"
I didn't contradict him, but he wouldn't be facing Soulless Gustav. Not if I had any say in the matter. After he'd climbed the stairs, I clapped once.
"Yes, mistress?" The servant was just there suddenly. Not materializing from nothing. More like he'd always been there, just unnoticed.
"I'll need a bath drawn. And a change of clothes."
I paused, expecting Newt to say something discouraging. He was too contented to bother with even a displeased glare.
My bath waited in a room on the first floor. Like the servant, the room seemed to have not been there before and yet perfectly in place. The long tub was filled with ice-cold water, just as I liked my baths. I stripped naked before the phantom and slid into the water. The servant pointed out the variety of soaps and perfumes and a wardrobe that should possess whatever clothes I needed. Then he was gone again, back to his unnoticed oblivion.
I didn't bathe often. I didn't really need to. My accursed nature did enough to keep me beautiful, but I enjoyed a nice, chilly bath every so often. It'd been too long since I'd had one. Not since I'd dipped myself in the lake the day Ghastly Edna had died.
The recollection made me smile. I missed Ghastly Edna, but she'd sent me to that lake with a purpose. I now knew that purpose. She'd known Wyst of the West would spy me, and that this would be laying the seeds of desire in his heart. Tonight would be her last gift to me.
I enjoyed my bath for an hour. I waited for the water to wrinkle my fingers. It didn't. It never did. I pulled myself from the tub and picked through the perfumed oils. They were all quite lovely, but none could match my own natural scent, a subtle mix of flowers and strawberries along with a new aroma: fresh bread. No doubt added by the magic because Wyst would like it.
I studied my form in a full-length mirror. I hadn't looked at myself, really looked, for a long time. I'd forgotten just how beautiful I was. My flawless, smooth skin was without a freckle. My figure was lean, yet blessed with the soft curves men wanted. My eyes sparkled. I was perfect, and even if a man's desires leaned toward blondes or short women, my curse made up for that.
I found exactly what I wanted in the wardrobe. The silky gown couldn't be more unwitchly. It was soft and sheer and hid little. I slipped it on and smiled, despite myself. Even if I couldn't be a mortal woman, it was nice to indulge in those pleasures I normally denied myself.
I wasn't quite ready to go upstairs yet. I crept outside. Both Newt and Gwurm sat by the fire and didn't notice. Penelope waited on the immaculate porch. She tilted to one side, then the other. Then floated a circle around me. She gave her approval with a hop and a twirl.
"Thank you."
"So are you going to mate with him or eat him?"
The gray fox sat at the bottom of the steps.
"I'm surprised you followed us into this false land," I said.
"I'd come too far to turn back now. Not when things were getting interesting." She grinned. "I only regret that as a simple fox, I can't appreciate it all."
I looked to the moon and pondered whether it was genuine or merely a reproduction.
"You didn't answer my question," said the fox.
"How do you know I want to do either?"
The fox laughed. "I may only be a beast, but if there are two things we beasts know, it's eating and mating. I've watched the way you look at that man. Sometimes, it's with the desire of a female for a male. Sometimes, it's with the gnawing of an empty stomach. Sometimes, it's both."
"I didn't think it was that obvious."
"Everything is obvious when you look for it. So is it mating season for witches? I think he'd father excellent offspring."
As did I. "I can't bear children."
"Neither can I," she said. "But when the season rolls around, I seek out a mate anyway. Even if I haven't birthed a litter in three seasons."
"Too bad," I said. "The world could use more clever foxes."
"The world could use a great many things."
I descended the short stairs and sat beside the fox. "I don't know what I'm going to do. I think I might do both."
She nibbled at an itch in her tail. "I've never been one to play with my food. Although I do enjoy batting around the occasional field mouse."
I stroked her between the ears. "I don't want to kill him."
"I suppose if you just bit off a few less necessary parts, but that would be more of a snack than a meal."
My stomach whimpered.
"Can I offer some advice?" said the fox. "I've never had anything I wanted to both eat and mate, but the logical thing to do would be to mate first, then eat. That way you get both pleasures."
"I don't want to eat him."
"Ah, I know the feeling. I once stole an egg that I didn't want to crack because once I ate it, it would be gone. But I knew I couldn't be happy just looking at it." She settled her head on my lap. "That's the question you should ask yourself. Can you be happy just having him?"
"I don't know, but I think it's time to find out."
I invited the fox in for a bite to eat, and she accepted. I introduced her to Newt and Gwurm. Newt was more interested in my unwitchly raiment.