The spider escapes due to Keiran's distraction. The light, though - it definitely looks like a person's out there. The way the light moves, it's almost as if it's signaling.

     Well, that's certainly enough for him. Keiran starts back out of the bathroom, casting a wistful glance at the half-shut bedroom door before he starts back down the stairs at a trot, through the kitchen, and back out the door into the yard, hoping he hasn't lost the light in transition time.

     The light is still there, and appears to be at the edge of the woods. There's definitely someone there.

     "Hullo?" Keiran calls out as he starts out towards the light. A hand comes up to shield his eyes as he tries to see past it, to see who holds it. "Who's there?"

     "Was beginning to wonder if you were coming down." There's a man there now, not too tall - not the one who turned into the owl, that's for sure. This one has pale blonde hair and a quick grin. His lantern is tied to the bridle of his horse, a dappled mare. There's a shrewdness to his grey eyes, though, that underlies the quick humour. "Brother Owl sent me. You're a lucky one - only one of my brothers could persuade me to anything, right now, unless it were the return of the High King himself."

     Keiran gives the man an almost incredulous look, but with a sigh just nods, deciding to roll with things rather than continuing to struggle against the current. "Ah, so you know ... well, Brother Owl's as good a name as any. He ... sent you? What for then? Sorry to be abrupt, but I'm having a bit of a night..."

     "Mad Peter." He gestures down at himself. "And - well, it's a name, not really his, but considering what he's like, it's as good as any. But aye, I know him. He and I, we're of the same team, I suppose you could say." He winks broadly, then leans back against his mare once more. "He had to explain to me why he was late in returning, and his explanation - well. Sounds as if you've a bit of a mess. Do you want what little help I can give you, or no?"

     "Keiran," he replies, introducing himself in turn. "Going a little loopy." He glances back over his shoulder at the house for a long moment and then turns back to Mad Peter. "Well, not like I'm exactly in a position to be turning down help. Appreciate it. What've you got?"

     "You're leanhaun-blooded, I can smell it." Peter says it calmly, stating a fact. "That's a part of it, I'm sure, though what the rest is, well, I don't entirely know. But you've drawn the attention of someone powerful. And you live in this world, which means whatever they're trying to do, for good or for ill, it's going to mess with your life more than a little." He winks one shiny eye, then shakes his head, sobering. "Well, Keiran, I can talk all night and still only tell you a very little. The best way to tell is probably to show you. Will you take a ride with me?"

     "I - Well, yeah ... that's the family legend anyway," Keiran replies, looking a little surprised at having his secret outed so casually. "A ride? Ah, well ... I don't know if I should stray too far..." He looks back at the house again, considering and deliberating for a moment before shrugging. "But dunno there's much I can do by sticking close, so - suppose I'll give this a try. Where are we going?"

     He swings himself up into the saddle as easily as if he's done it every day for a thousand years, then grins, patting the saddle behind him. "There's only one place to go when you're in the sort of straits you're in, lad. East of the sun and west of the moon. Over the river and through the woods. Past the mountains of despair and the sea of dreams. I could go on, but the Cartographers' Guild is going to be upset with me as it is. Come on, then."

     "Right. Silly me expecting a straight answer tonight of all nights. The moon must be full." Keiran clambers up behind him on the horse, just slightly awkward as he gets himself situated. "Okay, take me where you're taking me and I'll find out when we get there."

     "Straight answers are a human fashioning. We aren't human." Mad Peter clicks his tongue to the horse, and the mare surges forward with sudden, blinding speed. He laughs, and if anything, the horse speeds up further. "I'll be kind. I won't take you through the edges of Hell and instead we'll only skirt the plains of Chaos - from what I understand, it's oddly clear of the six-headed hound of Chaos tonight."

     "Wouldn't be what you might call a demon hound, would it?" Keiran queries casually, holding on tightly but not seeming too panicked by the speed. "Anyway, appreciate the kindness. Tonight's been chaotic and hellish enough, thanks."

     "No, the demon hound's something else," Peter calls back easily. "It's the real reason I was out here, in fact. Brother Owl told me about it as well as about you, and I thought I'd best have a look." Everything has become a blur. The woods, the swinging of the lantern, it all jostles and blurs together as one - a fuzzed kaleidoscope of light and darkness, of geometry and nothingness. "It is not unknown for our kind to make pacts with Darkness, sometimes. It's always a bad idea, mind, but it's not unknown. And if that's so, with two fae-blooded children of the mortal realm suddenly caught up in royal politics..."

     Keiran closes his eyes after a few moments to block out the dizzy whirl of the passing scenery. "Ah, well, was just a guess anyway," he replies easily enough, grip tightening a little more. "Wait, two? And if I'm one of them, I still don't see how I'm caught up in anything. Or why, for that matter. I know there's something going on about missing kings and all, but what that's got to do with me..."

     "Your lady love." Mad Peter seems amused, glancing back with a sharp gaze. "You might occasionally strike gold in black hills, but it's not a frequent find, is it? No matter what her mother might or might not have said. She was a bitter wench, from all I know of her." He nudges the mare forward, then pulls to the side, arching into the turn. "Missing ... well, let's see where to begin. We should start in one of the cities. We can eat and rest there and I can fill you in and get you started on your way. I won't be able to stay with you for long, though. It's fortunate for you that this happened when it did. Right now, time is on your side."

     "Wait, Gwen? She's... But - How is that even possible?" Keiran opens his eyes again to stare back with a puzzled expression. "Has that got something to do with this heartless business? What is happening? I'm glad it's a good time for it, but I'd still rather like to know what's going on."

     "Possible? Well, you see, when a man and a woman lie together, things happen, and sometimes, the woman gets pregnant," Peter answers helpfully. "And fairy men have long had a liking for mortal women. It's been less frequent since your kind - mortal kind, I should say - started delving deeper into Science and turning away from Magic, but there are still exceptions. Magic folk, for one. Isolated and reclusive areas, for another. And the Morgan homestead? Both, in one pretty little package."
     The horse begins slowing, though not to a halt; the scenery begins to unblur, and now where once there was Wales, now there is an open field, and a wide expanse of road. "The heartless business - mm, if her heart's been taken, then in a way, at least, yes, it's because of the faerie blood. I don't know everything that's going on, Keiran. And even if I did, some things, I would not be permitted to tell you. But I am telling you everything that I can." He glances over his shoulder. "Now, which city do you prefer? Avalon, the Nameless City, or the Broken City?"

     "So you're telling me her father is...? So who's that bloke on the staircase then?" Keiran muses, not so much asking as just wondering aloud, trying to make sense out of a nonsensical night. "I guess of all the things I'm being expected to believe tonight, that's ... one of the easier ones," he finally admits with a shrug, just filing it away to deal with later.
     "I appreciate you telling me what you can; and I know I'm nothing but a bundle of questions, but I never paid much attention to this whole side of my heritage before - not sure I even entirely believed it to be more than a myth, to be truthful... And now suddenly my girlfriend is not only half-fairy, but heartless what's more, I've got glass spiders in the looking glass and demon hounds in the woods, and I'm taking an impossible trip on horseback, so - doing my best to keep up here, but I'm a little lost here as to what's going on." He just raises his eyebrows slightly at the decision of cities. "Oh, why not Avalon then. Sounds cheeriest of the three."

     "One of the other family members, likely. As to who her father is - well, really, I can make a guess, but one guess is as good as another. Could just be another fairy-blooded like yourself, or it could be the West Wind, for all I know." Mad Peter smiles, a droll twist of his mouth, and he tugs his mare's reins. "You're not so magic-less as to fail to believe in impossible things. If you were, none of this would be likely to happen to you. Oh, magic can attack those who don't believe in it, belief isn't necessary any more than you need to believe in gravity to have a fall out of a sixth floor window be fatal - but believing in magic, knowing about magic is like leaving the window open. It just makes it that much more likely you'll lean out and fall as opposed to getting tossed out by someone or something bigger than you."
     He canters along the road, watching the distant spires of towers glisten. It isn't nightfall here; the sun arcs and shines overhead. "Of course, knowing a bit about magic also means you're in more of a position to avoid hitting the ground at the end, too - so I wouldn't be too hard on yourself for not knowing. Pick one question at a time, lad. I've only got one mouth to be answering with."

     "It isn't that it's impossible that's giving me trouble. Plenty enough impossible things have happened, you're right. More it's just - Well, it's a lot of impossibility to take in all at once, is all," Keiran replies, giving his head a bit of a shake.
     "But seeing as Gwen isn't exactly in a position to be helping herself right now, guess I've just got to buck up and do my best. Nothing else for it." He watches the scenery as they make their way along, though his attention isn't exactly actively focussed upon it. "Why us? Why now? All right, so that's two, but they sort of go together. Actually, scratch that. More important is how do I fix things with Gwen?"

     "You said she's missing her heart." Mad Peter slows the horse a bit as he speaks. "You've got to somehow get back what's missing, then, haven't you? Even in your magical corner of the world, what happens to people when you remove their heart?" He pats his mare's neck affectionately, then glances back, expression sharp and serious.

     "Are you saying she's going to...? Well, no, she's not because I'm going to fix it long before anything like that'll happen," Keiran replies, tone quiet but serious now. "Only thing is I don't quite know how. Reckon the spiders have something to do with it, but blimey if they're talking. Don't suppose you've any sort of idea as to where I should start, do you?"

     Mad Peter shakes his head. "Time is on your side right now, as I've said. Several of the most powerful people in these ... lands ... have decreed that time's passage is slowed - spend a month here, you'll have been gone only perhaps a week in your world. It's conveniently timed, as I've said. As for where to start?" His smile is again sly. "Well, you've already chosen, haven't you? Avalon. We'll stay in the travelers' district and avoid the palace - the best gossip will be there, and you may be able to find something out. But for now, let's get there - and you ask me anything else you want to know, because with the morning, I'll be gone."

     "Guess that's one thing gone right then," Keiran replies with a mirthless smirk, before shaking his head again. "To Avalon then. Whatever'll do it. As for what I want to know, well, it's rather at a point where I'm not even sure what I don't know anymore, so overwhelming is my ignorance. Do you have any idea why this - thing - whatever it is that's causing this - is happening to us? Well, happening to her, really, but from what Brother Owl said, it would seem to be more or less my fault, so- Two missing kings, sure, but I'm hardly royalty. And I'm sure we both would have been quite content to mind our own business..."

     "The one king that's missing has little to do with this - the High King." Peter taps a gloved finger to his temple. "He's ... been gone a long time. That is, we've not had one for a long time. And in his absence, the kingdoms have all fallen to petty squabbling and alliances - bored children at play, think of it that way. It means there's noone there to put a stop to things like malice against random mortals, for example. As for Brother Owl, well - he can see three hundred and sixty degrees around him, but that doesn't mean he knows what he sees."

     "So we're just unlucky, is that it? Got targeted more or less at random by mischievous children? Not a very fulfilling answer, but I suppose that would be the most obvious one," Keiran replies with a sigh. "So you think Brother Owl was off the mark then? Doubt it could have been anything Gwen did to bring this upon herself; a sweeter girl you never could find, before this all started."

     Mad Peter answers mildly, "I didn't say that it was random, did I? But Brother Owl sees the details; it doesn't mean he knows what he's looking at. Could you recognise a motorcycle engine's varied components, let alone fix them? He sees it, but he sees it all at once. He doesn't know if he's coming or going, necessarily."
     He slows the horse to a walk. "Now, remember - you're a traveler, going to your uncle's in the east. I agreed to give you a lift as far as Avalon, because I was dropping off a gift for the Oak King in honour of his impending wedding. That's if the guards ask. If they don't ask, just keep your mouth closed."

     "So if it's not random-?" Keiran cuts his question short as Mad Peter slows the horse, and instead of finishing he just focusses on the instructions, giving a nod of comprehension. "Traveler, uncle in the east, got it," he replies, sitting up a little straighter and trying to look a little less harried and urgent about things.

     The guards glance the two over and there's a jocular remark aimed at Mad Peter - but that's all. For his part, Mad Peter just grins and doesn't respond, instead directing the mare down a side street a short way past the gates. "We're going," he tells Keiran in an undertone, "into one of the older quarters. This isn't really Avalon proper - you're better off this way, trust me. Not that Avalon doesn't have its moments, but I think the gap would be too wide for you and they, and you don't really want a rag-tag army of bored knights trying to set off with you on a quest to right all wrongs in the name of love and honour, do you?"

     "Well, not today," Keiran replies rather seriously as he glances around at the new surroundings. "Best I stay focussed on the task at hand. Anyway, whatever you think is best; I'll just follow your lead for now, I think." He glances back the way they came before returning his attention to Mad Peter. "What do you think someone would want with her heart, anyway?"

     "Either they want her dead, they're in love with her and are taking the entire capturing of a girl's heart rather literally, or they want something from you as her intended," Mad Peter answers promptly. "Think for yourself - why? It's the sort of answer you should be able to come up with on your own. In fact, you need to be able to come up with it on your own - you need to think like us, to think with that side of yourself, if you're going to make any headway here whatsoever. This isn't the mortal realm, you know." He reaches a dingy-looking inn and dismounts, letting the reins trail down in front. "Coming?"

     "None of those are really the most reassuring options, are they," Keiran replies dryly, though not quite seriously. "And yeah, I rather picked up on that much, at least," he notes, in regards to this not being the mortal realm. "Only I'm not sure I know how to think with that part of me. Up until a few hours ago, I wasn't even sure that side of me actually existed. But I'll ... do my best, I suppose. No point in whining about it when there's better things to be doing. He clambers down off of the horse, giving the inn a somewhat wary once over. "What's this then?"

     "It's an inn," Mad Peter says helpfully. "Tavern. Drinking establishment. They also do rooms, and a bit of food. You can't exist without eating, can you? I know I can't. And don't worry - the food won't make you trapped here forever and ever or anything like that. It's going to be paid for, you see. Remember that - if someone offers you something as a gift, make sure it's a gift, no strings attached, before you take it, eat it, smoke it, whatever. Among us common-folk, it's not going to be an issue; most won't have enough power to trap you here against your wishes anyway. But among the nobles and the royals, it's a different story. They have real power, they do. Some, of course, more than others."

     "I only meant - Never mind. Inn; got it, thanks." Keiran draws in a deep breath, eyeing the place again. "Can't exist without eating no, though I'll admit I've rather been worrying about the bigger things right now. Anyway, I'll keep your advice in mind. No gifts will be taken willy-nilly." He jams his hands in his pockets and then gives his head a single nod, indicating he's ready whenever.

     Mad Peter gives a madcap grin, then swings inside. "Ho, barkeep! Two pints of your finest, for the Hunt and a guest!" There's a squeal from a barmaid, though it seems of surprise and pleasure rather than alarm, and he takes up position at a table by the fire. He tosses himself into a chair, setting his boots up on the table. "And two bowls of your stew, Pigrin, and a loaf of blackcurrant bread. Key, lad, come and sit."

     Keiran puts on a friendly but somewhat cautious smile of his own as he steps into the inn after Mad Peter. A nod of greeting is offered to the room at large as he pauses a moment to take in his surroundings. The barmaid's squeal gets an understanding eyebrow quirk from him before he moves to join the man at the table. "Come here often, I take it," he notes with a grin as he again looks around at the place, as though trying to find what makes it any different from 'his' world.

     "I am - or was - the Messenger for a very long time indeed," Peter explains easily, though he lowers his voice slightly as he gives the explanation. The room itself isn't anything terribly unusual - large, with wooden tables and benches and chairs, a fireplace, a bar. The patrons are what primarily makes it odd.
     While many of the patrons are human-looking, all of them have at least some characteristic to mark them as something ... else. The barmaid has long silver hair and pointed ears that slide up through it, her eyes the same bewitching shade of silver as her hair, while the barman has a pig's nose and ears, his skin slightly greenish. Peter, of course, seems to find nothing out of the ordinary. "You saw how I rode, yes? I took us by a route which had only minimal dangers, and I ride fast enough that very few things could keep up."

     "Quite a talent that," Keiran notes agreeably as he studies the occupants of the room only long enough to make note of these peculiarities but not long enough to single him out as some staring bumpkin. "Get quite the ... crowd in here, don't they." His own voice is kept fairly low to keep the conversation private between the two of them. Still, however odd he thinks his fellow patrons, he does a good job of not seeming too ill at ease, relaxing back in his chair a little and resting an arm along the edge of the table.

     Mad Peter flashes a quick grin. "No one here is out of the ordinary save to you, lad. None of us here are human - and you're only mostly human, remember that. It might be important, at some point." He wraps his hands around the mug of ale as it's set in front of him.
     "Ah, Deulah, you're as lovely as ever. Give my regards to your daughter, won't you?" She blushes and simpers on past after depositing the rest of the food and drink, and he continues to Keiran quietly. "Deulah's the bastard daughter of a king. She could've stayed at court, but she decided she didn't like the life. She's married to the barkeep, so best not to stare too hard at her if you don't want him getting irate."
     He takes a pull from his tankard. "I'm a member of the Wild Hunt. Means little to you, I imagine, but around here, it means something - a series of somethings, very specific. I'm one of the public members, so it's well known who and what I am. Do you want to know more? While fairy politics can be a real bitch-up, a little knowledge might help you. Especially if it's royals you're going to have to tangle with."

     "Do my best to keep it in mind, though it still will take some getting used to," Keiran replies with a one-shouldered shrug. As their drinks are brought, he sits up a little straighter, nodding his thanks to the woman he soon comes to learn is Deulah. His attention returns to Mad Peter as Deulah heads off, his eyebrows lifting just slightly at the explanation to which he nods in comprehension. "Ah, jealous husband, got it," he replies simply, eyeing his drink half a moment before giving a 'what the hell' shrug and taking a goodly enough swallow. "Wild Hunt, hm? Well, if you think it'll help, might as well give me a quick lesson then, yeah."

     "Everyone here is born into something. Doesn't mean you can't alter your destiny - through bravery, treachery, what-have-you - but you're born into a place. And that's where things start." Peter is casual about it all, explaining with the air of someone who doesn't find it to be much more than a joke. "Glory to the brave, fortune to the quick, and so forth aside - being born royal is usually the only way to get to the top of the heap. Or being smiled upon by those of royal blood. They have the most in the way of resources - and, typically, magic, because rulership here isn't just tied into birth. It's tied into actually ... ruling."

     "A backwards policy if I ever heard one," Keiran replies without any seriousness. "So where you're born determines at the very least where you're going to find the path of least resistance, aye? All right, with you so far." He settles back in his seat again, taking another swig of his drink before setting it down on the table and looking back to Mad Peter.

     "No, where you're born is just where you're born. The rest is up to you, same as anywhere else. It just helps if you're born into money, power, and good looks." The rider smirks across the table, then looks into the fire. "Now, you have to understand that this land is big - really big. It's so big that it hasn't ever been fully mapped, and never will be - and what's more, the geography can and does change. I don't just mean where the borders of this or that kingdom are. The Cartographers' Guild tries to keep track of things, and they have a fairly good map of the most common areas, which they just try to keep up to date for the most part. Now and again, someone will set out to add to it - but between inter-kingdom rivalries, dragons, wyverns, Impossible Beasts and plain old exposure, it's a dangerous job for the best of them. There hasn't been a significant expansion to the map in years."

     "All right, fair enough," Keiran replies with a nod, watching the foam in his drink for a moment as he contemplates this - or contemplates something, anyway. "So you're basically dealing with uncharted territory, literally then. Guess it keeps a bit of mystery alive." He looks back up at Mad Peter then without lifting his head, waiting for the man to continue.

     "It kept me amused, for a time. The Wild Hunt, you see, is neutral in all the affairs of the kingdoms. We don't get involved unless someone pays us - and then only if we choose to. Our sole allegiance is to the High King." Peter whistles through his teeth once, then shakes his head. "Of course, that was before the kingdoms in general failed to uphold their part of a little contract with the Hunt which we like to call Hunting down murderers responsible for the death of a close relative of mine, but that's a story for another time. Point being, people mostly don't get along, and even when they do, it's all temporary. Though... there have been some recent changes, I'll admit."

     "So without a High King you lot must be feeling a little ... adrift, no?" Keiran queries a little more gently, clearly not wanting to step on any toes or open old wounds. An eyebrow again goes up at the mention of murder but after a brief pause, he opts to leave that sleeping dog lie for the moment. "Changes? Like what?"

     "Adrift? After a thousand years, you learn to manage." Peter quirks up one eyebrow. "I spent quite a bit of time in your world, of course - quite exciting, some of it. I had a bit of fun, running messages back and forth between - well, Wales and France, I suppose you'd think of them as. I have a long-standing history of neutrality, I suppose you might say."
     He ruffles his fingers through his hair, then lets his hand fall to his side. "Changes. Well. A new queen, and a new kingdom to go with it. The return - briefly - of the Oak King; his transformation into the Holly King and his crowning his son Oak King in his place. The marriage of the new queen to the new Oak King, her impending delivery of twins, the continued rumors that she is somehow entangled with both the Holly and Oak Kings, which would make her ... something more than just a queen, quite possibly, and that is frightening and intriguing. The disappearance of the Oak Queen, and how that ties into things, plus the committing of several people who previously wouldn't dream of being tied down to the new queen's kingdom. Did I mention that the Oak King rules Avalon, and that when the new queen's kingdom appeared, it did so overnight, in a space where previously there was nothing but fields and cliffs and ocean? Even for us, this is a bit unusual, to say nothing of doing nothing for the local economy at the time."

     "Ah, those sorts of changes," Keiran remarks quietly, again studying his drink as he contemplates this. Finally, he just shrugs his shoulders in a long, drawn out movement. "Well, all over my head anyway. I was never too inclined to involve myself in politics, even the mortal kind. I'll just do my best not to disturb any hornets nests."

     "Well, in a way, it works to your advantage. The new queen's originally from your world, you see." Peter grins lopsidedly. "She's got things to do there still, so - they've exerted their power, she and her husband and the Holly King, and they've redirected the flow of time between here and there. Which ... well, any king or queen could do that, for a little while, for their own kingdom. But they somehow've done it for the entire lands. You can spend a month here, and it'll have been less than a week, back in your world. So - your lass should be safe. For a while."

     "Still not exactly looking to kill time though," Keiran notes only slightly pointedly. "I'm not of a mind to take chances, when it comes to her. You know how it is, surely. The sooner I can get this sorted and get her well again, the better. If time works to my advantage, that's certainly a relief, but I want this fixed now. If they'd chosen to mess with me, that'd be one thing, but you don't go after Gwen and get away with it." He's still speaking quietly, yet his voice takes on a firm, clear edge as he says this.

     "Well, I doubt very much it's the Oak King or the Holly King or even the new queen behind it," Mad Peter muses. "For one thing, she's due any week now - twins, so the odds are against her messing around with your girl. It isn't the Oak or Holly Kings' style - if they wanted her dead or out of the way, there wouldn't be all this fuss about it, and I don't see any reason why they'd care. So that means it's going to be one of the other kingdoms. Did Brother Owl tell you anything?"

     "Well, lessee ... Look for what's out of place about Gwen, but think we've covered that. Crooked road for me to follow; she's in danger because of me, but not directly..." Keiran pauses, frowning slightly as he thinks back. "Something about two missing kings. Both affect me, but he said one more so. Wasn't the High King, was another. One who's dead, but maybe not forever, if I recall correctly... Who was it?" he muses allowed, trying to remember a name from the jumble of the evening.

     "That doesn't narrow it down entirely, but I should mention that while we are functionally immortal here, most of us, when we die, don't get back up. So if Brother Owl said that, it needs to be examined." Peter belches and pushes his tankard and his plate away. "A man may die, but a king is replaced. So - if it's a dead king, it means his throne is empty. There's not many empty thrones right now. Let me think."

     "Empty throne, right. Pretty sure he mentioned something about that too. But sort of with the implication that it was temporary, I think." Keiran stares down at the table thoughtfully. "Think it had to do with a season, the king's name. I'm normally a good hand with names, but it's been a night and a half already. Give me a mo' and I'll try to remember it..."

     "The Winter Diamond." Peter shakes his head. "Since it wouldn't be the Summer King - that's the same as the Oak King, the Winter King being the Holly. And there are no others right now that involve seasons as part of their names or titles - not that I can think of, and it hasn't been that long since I hung up my reins."

     "I think that's it, yeah," Keiran agrees, looking up from his contemplation with a sharp nod. "So ... who's he? And what's he want with Gwen? Or if Brother Owl's right, with me through Gwen? Haven't been traipsing through any fairy kingdoms before now to my recollection. Was actually doing quite well at minding my own business with regards to all this part of my heritage. Seems almost like someone's calling me out, but I haven't the foggiest why. Though makes even less sense that they'd be after Gwen directly. She's a - She was a sweet thing who wouldn't hurt a ...fly - Say, do you reckon he has glass spiders working in his employ, by chance? Can do a sort of ... Through the Looking Glass trick? Maybe diamond, not glass, I suppose."

     "He's dead, so I doubt he'd have much interest in Gwen," Mad Peter answers dryly. "As for why... I don't know." He closes his eyes. "Mirrors - well, mirrors are one way of getting here, you know. I'm not familiar with glass spiders, but that doesn't mean anything. Everyone's got their own pet tricks. Your best bet, I'm thinking, is going to be going into the city - Avalon, that is - and seeing if anyone knows something more and can point you in the right direction." He opens his eyes, glancing to Keiran. "Understand - I can't do much more for you than just tell you what I know, since doing so would be taking a side."

     "Dead or not, someone's clearly got an interest in one or both of us, though Merlin knows why." Keiran lets out a frustrated sigh, looking back down at the table lost in dark thoughts for a moment before he simply nods. "Well, I appreciate anything you can do. I'm in way over my head here, but I've got to do what I can, don't I. So - go to the city, you say, and just sort of ... ask around? Glass spiders, dead kings, the like?"

     "Unless you have a better idea." Peter grins, then pushes his chair back, straightening up and stretching. "Who you meet - well, they're unlikely to be outright against you, here. This is Avalon."

     "Well, here's to hoping anyway. Don't really want to stir up more trouble in trying to fix this, but I'm beginning to doubt I'll be given that choice," Keiran remarks with a wry smirk, shrugging a shoulder. "Anyway, thanks for playing tour guide and all. Uh, when the time comes, how do I go about getting back exactly?"

     "A good point," Peter concedes. "Tell you what - the West Wind owes me a few favors, if it comes to that. Contact him and either get him to fetch me, or have him take you back if he's up for the task. He's busy, so hopefully you won't need it in a tearing hurry, but he does get around, as do his brothers. Any passing breeze can carry word to him - just mention his name. Prince Hwyll should come if only to figure out who it is that's calling."

     "Ask ... for the wind," Keiran echoes, as if testing to see if this option will sound any less unlikely when he says it. It doesn't, but after a beat he just shrugs it off, accepting it at face value. "All right. Thanks again. Best of luck on whatever business it is that you see next. I'll try not to get myself into any situation too tightly."

     Mad Peter smiles, but it's a slightly grim expression. "From here I ride back to my hole and I sit in it until the kingdoms decide to take action - or until the High King returns, whichever comes first." He rolls up his sleeve, revealing a red cord tied around his bicep.
     "I ride for vengeance, from hereon out. Isobel must be avenged, lest she be forgotten." He lets his sleeve fall back into place, and he turns away. "Your stay for the night is covered, but I'd be prepared to barter, if I were you, from hereon out. Money is useful, and I haven't any to spare, I'm afraid. Good luck, then, until our paths cross again."

     "I'm sorry for your loss," Keiran replies quietly but sympathetically. "May vengeance come swiftly." With a nod, he turns a little more businesslike. "Aye, all right. Used to getting by on little anyway. Got bigger things to worry about at the moment. Thanks for all your help."

     A hand lifts in jaunty wave, but Peter doesn't speak again. Instead, he makes his way out of the tavern, shaking his head. As he makes his way out the door, he breaks out into whistling, the tune as jaunty as his wave; it's only a matter of moments later that there's the clip-clop sounds of a horse's hooves in motion.

Posted by rowan at October 20, 2005 08:31 PM