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Star closed his eyes, trying to breathe through the stinging pain and the weight of exhaustion after that sudden life-or-death race. Distantly, he could hear Georgio calling for medical aid, something like Hey! We got blood over here, yeah?? Don’t know if fairies can get infected, don’t want to find out!

It wasn’t worth answering it. He hissed as one of the overtaxed EMTs, the group of whom must have arrived while he was underwater, came down next to him and lifted his arm, checking the injury.

“I’m fine,” he said, to whatever he was asked. 

“What bit you?”

Star was reluctant to say another nixie, not and maybe get blamed for some of this somehow. He hedged his answers. “I’m not positive. They were humanoid. Sharp teeth.” He could make his teeth sharp too, on whim, a partial transformation into his other form overlaid on this one. “I don’t think it was venomous. I’m not going into the hospital, so don’t ask, I’m otherwise uninjured.”

The EMT said, “It wouldn’t hurt to go in and get checked out, get a tetanus shot,” but it wasn’t like they could force Star to go. 

“I’ve had one in the last five years,” he lied. “I’ll get antibiotics later.” More like he’d get magical healing as a just-in-case, but the details were his to deal with.

With a Hmm, the EMT finished examining the wound. “Little debridement needed, I’ll just—” Those were tweezers. Star closed his eyes. “Bite’s not too deep. I’ll do a surface cleaning, but you want bleeding to stop before they’re irrigated, so I really do suggest going to a professional as soon as possible after this. You’re not the cleanest you’ve ever been.” That was an understatement. The water on the track had been filthy.

“I — ow,” Star complained, as saline water was washed over his wound. He focused, pulling his own magical water over his body and letting it splash down. “I’m clean. There.”

“Ah,” the EMT said, pained and human. “Well, okay, but really consider it, and definitely go if you see signs of infection. Puffiness, redness, warmth, pus, red streaks. I know nobody can tell a fairy what to do, though.” Someone called, and they nodded to Star. “Thanks for your work out there.”

Star hated being thanked, but humans meant well with it every time. He swallowed around the instinctive complaint. “Sure.”

The medic moved away and Georgio moved in. He smelled terrible, wet and sweaty bull, but he refrained from shaking himself. “Yo, what the fuck happened in there?”

What had happened? Why would someone want to drown folks? Or… was it even meant to be this many people pulled in? What if it was just the one, and the others were just coincidental, or even meant to cover up this particular attempted murder? The other nixie had only grabbed one person specifically, after all.

Star wondered if Garrett was the scheduler who had been used by the Suspicious Pair to double-book the lane so they could corner Dom. There was no way to know until he talked to Heronika, of course. Even so, why kill him so publicly—or would it just read as a freak accident if someone wasn’t already suspicious? There was enough damage that it certainly wouldn’t look targeted if someone ended up dying.

And what else would this flooding do? Washing the track out didn’t have any magical effect he could immediately think of, but the water would be standing for some time until they could find a way to pump it. That would provide a potential base for an aquatic creature. It would also take the track out of commission for a while. Would there be a reason to do that? 

He supposed that, if nothing else, it would make it hard to search the area for evidence. Even if it was only the track, not the clubhouse or anywhere else, the area was going to be swarming with cops, maintenance workers, and reporters—

“Shit,” Star muttered. The reporters would definitely be on their way soon, and if he didn’t want to lose a lot of today, he had to get himself gone. “Georgio…”

“Yeaaaaaaaaaaah?”

Slowly, Star looked up at Georgio. Those bullish eyes were concerned, heavy brows drawn down. He’d never liked Georgio, but… well, maybe it was time for that to change. The bull had really pulled his weight around here, and was clearly standing by him now. “Can you help me?”

He gave a brief rundown of the situation to Georgio, hoping it wasn’t too stammered or confused. “I don’t know what they want with me, or with my boss, or with Dom, but they’ve already shown they’re willing to kill,” Star finished, low-voiced and shaky. “I need to investigate, but there’s already people all over the place here, and I was… I guess… a bit of a rescuing hero here so people are gonna try to corner me to talk about it, I bet you anything. I don’t know if I can afford that much time. I should probably try to sneak out. But… there’s work that still needs doing here.”

Georgio let out a rough huff of breath. “This situation’s nuttier than a peanut butter factory,” he grumbled. “Listen, I’m willing, but I’m Vayne’s guy, you know? I need to work with Vayne and with the track out we’re gonna have to figure out what we’re gonna do together. I won’t always be able to jump to help you, but… yeah. I can ask ’round here right now. Check in with Heronika about that guy,” he nodded to where the unconscious Garrett was being bundled onto a stretcher, “see if I can find out anything about the dude in black and what they was doing here today.”

Relieved, Star patted his side. He took his phone out, shaking it and magically drawing every particle of water out from its insides. “Call me if you find anything.”

“I don’t got a phone, dude. I can’t hold shit, yeah?” Georgio said, stamping a hoof. “You call Vayne, or I’ll have him call Dom. Your man Dom has his number and vice-a verse-a. Vayne can hold a phone up for me.”

That would probably work. Star got up, pulling glamour around himself so he would be unnoticeable to anyone who wasn’t immune to fairy glamour; unfortunately, there were many ways to get around it. Putting a certain ointment on their eyelids, looking through an elf-shot stone, turning their clothes inside out and wearing them, even just having greater magics or glamours than himself. Those and other such folk remedies had, Star regretted, a remarkably high rate of success. Still, Georgio swore abruptly, as Star looked like he’d vanished into dew.

Invisible to at least some eyes, Star quickly composed a group message to his friends and relayed what had just happened, then picked his way around groups of gawkers, people in shock, workers, EMTs, police, arriving news agents, beginning to work his way through the clubhouse. His arm throbbed dully.

He got several messages back quickly, all of which felt like potential next steps for him: 

Dom was worried about him and wouldn’t mind company to make sure he was okay and to talk things over. 

Dandelion was with the aforementioned mysterious friend who might be willing to hide Dom, and invited Star over to come meet him and recover there. He sounded very concerned.

And Viv was over at the Twilight Council and had been told about a guy with protection magic, so he could go there to get some of that together for Dom, and maybe some healing for himself.

Which one was the best next step, he wondered.

It also occurred to him that, as much as he trusted Georgio to figure it out, he could try to do a last little bit of poking around the clubhouse while glamoured, though again, there were plenty of ways for him to still be noticed, he couldn’t talk to anyone like this, and it was likely to get too crowded within minutes. It was risky and he wasn’t sure of the reward.

Star hesitated, gazing at his phone, trying to decide who to text back and what to say.

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For a moment, Star stood frozen, still holding the hose. He wanted to run after the figure, of course, and briefly entertained an image of him and Georgio running the person down, fighting him with Georgio at his back, speed and strength working together. The idea of letting that person go when he could solve their problems now was horrible. But—

But screaming was worse, screaming meant something bad was happening, and he couldn’t turn his back on it, not again. And water, that he could do something with. “Georgio! Come with me,” he shouted, turning to run back toward the track. No time for regrets; maybe he could have sent Georgio after the mysterious figure, but it was better not to be alone right now.

After all, water, screams? Who knew what was waiting for them.

When he opened the doors at the end, water sluiced in, running up to his knees right away; it would have bowled him over if he weren’t a water spirit. The more mundane mounts in the paddocks began to scream and thump around in their stalls as their feet suddenly dampened.

“What the fuck,” Star said, and Georgio shoved the doors more wildly open with his shoulder, also standing against the water.

It was chaos outside. It appeared that five of the water trucks used to dampen the track had all burst at once, but too much water was coming out of them, like they were drawing on an endless reservoir. There was a faint sulphurous tang of magic in the air, mixed with something else, something familiar he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

The track was slightly downhill of the paddock, a dip built so the stadium seats would get a full view, and the overturned and broken water trucks were continuing to pour out an entire waterfall of water into it. The track was fully flooded already, with the water roaring around it, nearly a whirlpool as the current from the spouting water spun it along the track. The infield—the middle section that the track wrapped around—was already fully flooded, its decorative pond hidden under the rest of the water, with only one decorative tree still showing branches above the water. One woman in a janitorial outfit was barely clinging to a pole next to the track, legs and shoulders in the water, and it was clear she was going to lose her grip in a moment. Many people were along the sides, shouting, dialing for emergency services, sobbing. 

Staring in horror at the track, Star saw a pair of head and shoulders bob up from the water, then get sucked under again. There had been people swept into it. Of course there had been.

He shook himself into action. “Georgio, get that woman! I’m going to—I have to—” Georgio was already going, though, galloping over and throwing down his head to transfer her grip to the horns on either side of his human face. With his muscled neck, he would have no problem dragging her back up to safety

Good. Anyone at risk on the outside, Georgio could help with, but he’d be useless with what Star was going to do.

Star dove into the whirling water, switching forms as he did so. 

It had been a while, he had to admit. He slept in the pond, and swam in rivers, but usually stuck to his humanoid form to do so these days. But he was simply faster as a bäckahästen once he was in the water.

His legs pumped, and then he was galloping underwater faster than he’d ever be able to on land. Water filled his lungs and he coughed even as he ran; it was thick with the dirt and debris from hitting the track at such high force and breathing it was like breathing in a dust cloud would be in air. He caught sight of one form that shouldn’t be there, swam as close as he could, and stuck that figure to his side before continuing along the straightaway.

Brook horses—kelpies, nixies, whatever you wanted to call them—would traditionally hang around in the wilderness until someone tried to mount them. Then they’d stick that person to their back, make them unable to separate, and run them into the river to drown them.

Star was doing the opposite here, grabbing people who were drowning, attaching them, and running with them to get them to air. He tried desperately to do math in his head; he could do the full track in a minute and a half on the dry land. Faster in the water, but he was weaving to collect people. How long could a human hold their breath? How long had any of them been in here? No way to know how many additional breaths they’d managed to grab and how many had had them knocked out of them.

Stop thinking, he told himself. The straightaway was ending, so instead of taking the clubhouse turn, he ran up the slope the few paces it took to break into air, and released the humans stuck to him, letting momentum take them up onto the still-dry land. The helpers gathering around the water could take care of them.

He dove back in, rounding the curve without as much momentum as he’d like, sweeping up more humans, continuing along the backstretch, doing this over and over, releasing the humans he gathered as soon as seemed reasonable. Some of them might still not make it, he cautioned himself, trying to avoid disappointment.

Star hit the home stretch, flung the last stragglers out, and veered to cross the infield in case anyone had been washed out there. They didn’t seem to be, not at first; the whirling movement of the water had dragged most of them along the track, but he caught sight of one figure and swam toward it.

The figure turned and looked back at him, and he saw blue hair, tangled with seaweed, yellow eyes, a naked, lithe form—with a human in their arms. 

The human was more important than dealing with the other nixie. Star shot forward, transforming, grabbing the human and hauling at them. For a moment, his arms tangled with the other nixie’s, and then that nixie hissed, bit his arm hard, and then swam away. Blood clouded the water where he was swimming, and he lost sight of the nixie almost right away.

That was fine. Star swam upward and to the side, dragging the young man with him. He wasn’t moving, and Star pressed his lips to the man’s, sucking water from his lungs, spat it out, did it again until he was out of water, then pushed air into him.

Despite himself, he was fucking hungry. If he was drowning this man, rather than saving him, he’d be eating him about now. No help for it, he told himself in exhaustion as he attempted CPR. It was just biological.

The man coughed, and other people were rushing over now to help him. Star sat back and actually got a look at him, recognizing Garrett, one of the schedulers here. He let the professionals take over, just sort of stumbling back and taking a seat. 

When he looked around, he saw that the water trucks had finally finished pouring out water—whatever spell on them or other mechanism that had caused the increase in volume had ended. 

Georgio trotted up to him. “Yooo,” he said, shaken. “What the fuck, huuuuh?”

Star could only agree, though he was suddenly desperately grateful that Georgio had been there to help with things on the outside. He was shaking, bleeding heavily from the ragged bite mark in his arm, cold not from the water but from something else, something deeper. He felt like he should be taking some kind of action, but what? The other nixie had almost certainly gotten away in the chaos—if they’d wanted to. Same with the person in black. He could try to look for them, of course, or see what else he could do here, but his head was empty, tired. He didn’t even know what to think about, let alone what he could do. Why had this happened?

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“DON’T GOT TIME FOR WHAT, HUH?” Georgio asked, leaning into Star’s personal space. “FOR YOUR RIVAL, HUH? FOR THIS FINE HUNK OF A RACING SPECIMEN? YEAHHH?”

Star couldn’t stop thinking about it. If Dandelion viewed Dom as a romantic rival, what did that mean? Star knew Dandelion, knew he wouldn’t act against Dom—couldn’t imagine that in his personality, even if Dandelion were a noble sidhe and jealousy was a fairy’s lifeblood, even if fairies were the most possessive creatures crawling out of this green earth. No, it wasn’t like this was a lead on the situation in any way. But it was a complication, it was something that made Dom being used against Dandelion even more of a conflict. Did Dandelion even want more from Star? He’d never said anything. And he wasn’t even sure if Dom wanted more. Maybe Star should just swear off lovers. Maybe he should take an oath of chastity. Maybe he should run away.

And anyway, it’d be irrelevant what it meant if anything happened to either of them! 

He hadn’t answered Georgio, and Georgio didn’t like that. “YOU STANDING THERE LIKE YOU’RE ‘BOUT TO PUT DOWN ROOTS, YEAH, BECAUSE I’LL PULL YOU RIGHT OUT LIKE A DANDELION AND BLOW YOU AWAY.”

“Get his fucking name out of your mouth,” Star yelled back and kicked Georgio in the head. 

It was distinctly less effective than it would have been in his other form, but Georgio staggered anyway. Star drew a deep breath, lurching back to the other wall to put space between them. 

Georgio’s voice dropped out of its constant bellow, though it was still an aggressively monotone growl. “You okay, Son? That shit ain’t like you. If you got a problem with the Manotaur, we’re supposed to work it out on the track! But if you want it to be a brawl, you try comin’ at me again—” 

“The track,” Star said. He drew another breath. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He’d come here to question people. Georgio was one of those people he had meant to question. Georgio had been here when the strangers were here talking to Dom. Georgio was one of the few people who knew about the accidental double booking! But his blood was up, pounding in his ears. No, Georgio had it right, for once. “I’m having. A day. Can we run? On the track?”

“An informal race, huuuh?” Georgio growled. “Yeaaaaaaaaah, let’s go, ya little piece of nori, I’ll eat you like sushi.”

That was probably just normal Georgio shittalk. Star shook himself into his other form, heading for the track, shouldering past several maintenance workers protesting that they’d just aerated and watered the track. It was fine; even if the condition wasn’t fast, it’d be wet fast, solid and well-maintained. He could tip the maintenance workers for the extra labour after. He had to go, had to move. Georgio followed him and when they reached the line, Star gasped out, “Three, two…”

“One,” Georgio said, and they were off.

Star was all lithe speed with his thoroughbred conformation and a nature meant to scare riders to death at top speed, and the water on the track splashing up his legs felt good. He was a brook horse through and through; mud splashing up his legs felt right, like he was finally home again. He tore around the track, head down, just looking at the lane in front of him, letting his thoughts and panic fall away as he poured all of himself back into motion.

Georgio wasn’t fast and slender like Star was, and a mortal bull wouldn’t have been able to keep up, but he was a monster like Star, and his muscle translated to his speed more effectively than it would otherwise. Where Star’s legs danced against the mud, Georgio slammed through like a freight train, a fearsome mass of muscle that would mash anyone into paste if they got in the way.

It wasn’t quite enough to keep up, though, not with Star using the speed to peel mania off his body like sweat, and Star crossed the lap line first at a full fae gallop, slowing to a trot, then a shaky walk. As he let the tension go, he felt weak, exhausted, his head dropping. A night’s sleep wasn’t a real rest when stress lay heavy on him.

Mud spattered his side as Georgio ran past him, slower to adjust his speed down than Star was; once he hit his top speed he stayed there for a while. By the time Georgio had jogged to a regular walk and circled the lap line a second time, Star had shifted back to his more human form, muddy and leaning his hands on his knees.

“Better, Son?”

Star slapped a hand against Georgio’s muddy side. “You’re not half bad,” he said, instead of answering. “Here, let’s get inside and get hosed off.”

They headed to the entrance to the paddocks to do that together rather than track mud through the clubhouse, and Star got the hose down, since Georgio couldn’t do it himself. “The truth is, some shit has been going on,” Star said, spraying Georgio’s side. “Yesterday, when you were out here, did you see anything unusual?”

“Unusual?” Georgio growled. He was keeping the volume of his rasp down, presumably still a bit alarmed by Star freaking out and kicking him. Or maybe Star had finally found the volume button when he kicked, that was also possible. “What do you mean? What you after, Son?”

It occurred to Star that it was actually very possible that Georgio was in on it somehow, or that, at least, Vayne was. Like, maybe he and Vayne were the ones in the double booking for a reason. Maybe they were the ones who brought the Two Creepers to the track yesterday, or were the ones who had led them to information about Star and Dom in the first place. 

On the other hand, worrying about that involved too much thinking when what he needed was info. What was the worst that would happen if he tipped his hand that he was trying to investigate what had happened?”

“Yesterday,” Star said, “there were two weirdos here who cornered Dom after you and he met to get the double booking fixed. They cast some weird-ass spells on him and I’m worried about what they want and what they’re gonna do about it. They might even be after my boss.”

“Your boss, huh? Like, the guy who sponsors you?”

Right. Most jockeys rode because they were employed to do so by the person who owned the mount. Vayne was the Manotaur’s rider, but not the person who… well, didn’t own him, most of the mounts in the magical leagues weren’t owned as many of them were sentient. But most of them were still sponsored by some rich fuck out in the middle of nowhere. Dom and he were a different case, but he didn’t know how many people knew about that and he wasn’t exactly willing to get into it if they didn’t. “Yeah, sort of,” Star said. “Did you see ’em?”

“Two weirdos, huuuuuuuuuh,” Georgio growled. “YEAH, I SAW ‘EM. But only in passing. There was a li’l nixie and I thought it was you for a second, but she had tits, sooo it ain’t you unless you got more going on than I knew.”

“No,” Star said. “You probably shouldn’t call ’em tits.”

“Whatever, dude, we’re both just man guys here,” Georgio said, nudging Star with his now-wet bulk. “Riiiiight soooooooooooo. The other guy, only saw ’em from behind. Super tall, yeahhh, like someone took this guy and stretched him right out.”

“It was a man?”

“Not sure. Guessing so from the height,” Georgio said.

Star sighed. So that wasn’t actually more info. “But taller than human?”

“Taller’n normal for human but not like… impossible,” Georgio offered. “Just a guy who ate his wheaties and eggs every fuckin’ day and got real lucky in his parents, sort of height. Basketballer, you know, not like you’d usually see on the track. Weird, that, I assumed they were here to race, or at least ride, but you can’t get a jockey that tall easy.”

In the magical leagues, it was a little more doable since most of the mounts didn’t have quite the same limitations as mortal horses, but the heavier someone was, the slower a mount would go regardless. Height meant weight, generally. Most jockeys were pretty small. 

“Any other description, even if you just saw that one from behind?” Star asked.

“Looong black hair. Wearin’ a dress. Also all black. Goth, I guess.”

Star was starting to get a headache even at this new, improved volume. “Are you sure it was a dress and not robes?”

“No difference. Robe. Dress. Gown. All the same thing,” Georgio said. “Clothes that ain’t macho. I don’t know nothin’ bout fashion and cuts. Floor-length, though, yeahhhh.”

So maybe robes. The kind of person who wore robes. “You didn’t talk to them?”

“Naw. Vayne did, though, but I was in the paddocks at the time, getting me a niiiice snack, good fuckin’ hay here. The quality roughage, yeahhhhh.”

Interesting. Dom hadn’t known that Vayne had talked to them. Star wondered what it could be about. “What about the double booking?” Star asked. “Do you know who originally booked that lane?” 

“Well, it weren’t Heronika, she was pissed,” Georgio said. “She’d know who did it, thoughhhh, yeeaaaah. That lady got control of everything.”

That was a promising lead. Star nodded, bending to turn the hose off. As he faced up the paddocks toward the clubhouse, he abruptly saw a flash of movement—someone in all black, walking past the door between the clubhouse and the paddock.

Shit. Was that—

And then behind him, from the direction of the track, there was a sudden scream and the sound of rushing water.

Star stood bolt upright, trying to decide which way to run.

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Star woke to find himself alone, which was rarely a surprise, but, as a cuddler, was often a disappointment. Then again, he knew he often slept on his side with his limbs stiff, so he apparently wasn’t a great sleep-buddy.

Nobody else was home, which was mildly worrying as he walked naked through the place, checking various rooms. There was a note on the kitchen table: Have some personal business this morning, then off to meet my acquaintance. Call around or shortly after lunch if you’d like to meet him. It was signed with a doodle of a dandelion.

The rest of his worries were assuaged by check-ins on his phone that he’d received unasked. None of Adrien’s special someones were missing, but he’d stayed out overnight with a couple of them and was likely to be out for much of the day. Caoimhe had only managed to contact a few last night, who were fine, so she was following up with the rest of them this morning. 

It did make the situation feel more targeted, but Star supposed it was good if nobody else had weird people brainwashing their friends.

Dom’s check in was simpler: Still fine, nobody new, have lessons today but I’ll break the stick if anything happens. Star fired off a quick XOXO back.

Shit, there was even a message from Dr. W: Remember to do something for yourself today. 🙂 

Star stared down at his list of recent contacts, all worried and urgent. “I would fucking love to,” he said aloud, “but I don’t think I’ll have the fucking time.” Dandelion and Dom could both be in trouble! What was he going to do, just blow them off?

For a moment, he considered texting everyone to get back here, group chat, whatever, we need to plan plan plan. That’s where his head was, anyway, next step, doing the next thing for the greater good, whatever. But he was fucking sick of planning. He was not a man who wanted to sit around and chat and, besides, they’d just done that last night. At the least he needed more info before turning everything into another big get-together.

Still, Viv hadn’t messaged, and they had roughly planned to work on things together, so he sent her a message first: I’m gonna hit up the track. You should go to the TC. Try to ask around about protection magic &  those freaks, ok? Ps reply if you’re alive.

He got an answer back a few minutes later, as he searched the fridge. I was sleeping. I’ll gator. Probably auto-correct, he decided. A sleepy typo of go later? He sent her back an emoji of an alligator. 

Breakfast, then. He grabbed a pack of ground beef from the fridge and ate handfuls raw while trying to feel a bit less grumpy, then made a cup of tea in a disposable to-go cup and made himself go get dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that he owned that said Save a Horse, Ride a Nixie across the back. He didn’t bother to put anything on underneath, nor did he put on shoes. Society had asked enough of him already for a man who was biologically inclined to hate clothes at all times. 

He was meant to languish over lost loves under waterfalls, not follow decency laws.

The run to the track was fun, at least. Maybe that counted as doing something for himself? He wasn’t sure Dr. W would agree.

It was over almost too soon, though, the half-hour run to the track going by in no time. Star transformed back out front, finishing his tea and tossing the container in one of the compost bins there before heading in.

What should be first, he thought to himself. Although Dom hadn’t specified, he certainly had talked to the weirdos in the clubhouse somewhere—probably somewhere near the paddock if Halle had both seen them and been distracted by a nightmare being put up there. He could explore around there, maybe? Or, he could look for witnesses. Halle had been here, and obviously so had Heronika. It might be worth tracking down the janitors, or trying to follow up on the scheduling thing, or asking around who else had been here last night, and of course he could try to talk to—

“SON. SHOWIN’ YOUR FACE AROUND HERE, YEAH?”

There was only one person who called him Son, instead of his full title or just the usual Star. Also, there was only one person who talked at that weirdly monotone growl at such a high volume. “Georgio,” Star said, sighing. “Were you put up in the paddock here already? I thought your race was bumped out.”

“GOTTA KEEP TRAINING HARD ANYWAY, YEAHH? IT’S MIND-BOGGLING TO YA, YEAH? THAT I’M TRAININ’ NOW? YOUUUUU’RE JUST LUCKY YOU AREN’T FACING ME, YOUR GREATEST RIVAL, YEAH.” Georgio’s macho manotaur body was filling the clubhouse hall, his bearded sweaty human face comically small at the end of his bull neck. 

Ugh. Rival. There was that word again. His mind drifted back to how Dandelion had said it. A rival to Dom. In what? They had almost no activities in common, except— 

—no fucking way. Star froze, leaning against the wall as his legs suddenly wanted to make him leave immediately. He tossed his head, trying to shake the thought out. A love rival? That was stupid! Sure, Dandelion and he slept together and shared intimacies, but that wasn’t uncommon, the whole band was in this weird casual polywhatever. Why would Star having someone else who—oh fuck, who he’d let halter him, control him, give him a say over his life in the same way that Dandelion had through his very nature, why would that, of course it would, ohhh fuck—

“SCARED, YEAH? YOU AIN’T SEEN NOTHING—”

“I don’t have time for this,” Star wailed, throwing a hand up in front of Georgio’s face. He just straight up couldn’t have a full meltdown over this! He couldn’t simply run back out the doors and into the valley and never be seen again! He still hadn’t even figured out what he should do first here at the track yet!

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What now was a very valid question to ask, but Star was tired at this point. He was pretty sure he’d thought more in the last half day than he had done in the entire last month. They had to decide on something to do instead of just agreeing that it sucked and walking away, though.

“I guess my thing is,” Star said slowly, “how do we protect you, Dom? Like, people who’ve already cast memory-altering spells on you are clearly planning to see you again. And they know you’re connected to us. Like. They could at least hold you hostage against us, or… well, who knows what they’re thinking of doing?”

Dandelion made a soft noise of agreement. “If you wanted to go into hiding for a time, I know a guy. Strong, dangerous. Lovely chap, though, a prince among men.”

Dom shook his head. “…I don’t think it has to come to that. If I need to run, I’ll let you know, but I kind of want to be preparing for the race in two weeks and I also have a training job between races. I don’t like what’s happened, it freaks me the fuck out, but so far it hasn’t been dangerous.”

Star supposed it at least hadn’t been violent. 

“What about protection spells?” Caoimhe murmured, turning to Viv. “Could that help?”

“Theoretically yes,” Viv said. “I know some witches offer their protection services as a one-time spell. It’s also possible to get marked as being under someone’s protection in a way like, fuck with this person and I’ll mess you up, but that’s a pretty open-ended offer so it tends to be really expensive, and also, most of the witches who’ll do it are the ones willing to get into spell battles.” So mostly malefics. “I can’t do it myself, my area of specialty is bibliomancy, divination through using books. But if you want, I can ask around at the Council of Twilight tomorrow. You could come with me if you wanted, Star.”

Adrien said, “Maybe we’re barking up the wrong tree here. Is there something he can use to signal to us if he sees them again? Phones are obviously no good, but if that’s easy, we can be the protection and the rescuer.”

“I can do that,” Dandelion offered. “That’s fairly simple.” He drew a little glowstick out of his pocket. Star didn’t ask where he got it; obviously, from a rave. “If you break this, it can send a signal to me. Or… er, I’ll connect it to Star instead. Then there’s no actual connection to me directly, and besides, Star’s the fastest.”

“That’s a great idea,” Dom said.

Star shrugged. He wasn’t going to say no to it, though he thought he at least would be constantly anxious waiting to feel it snap. “Go for it, boss.”

Dandelion held it up, and drew a line with his finger from Dom, to the stick, to Star. Star felt the connection take place; not a spell, but Dandelion using his powers to make that invisible line between them tenuously real.

“Breaking this if I see them seems easy enough,” Dom agreed, taking the glow stick. “If I keep it in a pocket on me at all times, should be a snap.”

Star snorted, and he watched Dom realize his own accidental joke with his subsequent wince. “What else, though? That’s as much protection as I suppose we can do without finding something at the Twilight Council or attaching ourselves too directly, but what else? 

Dandelion sat back again. “I’m tempted to go to the track to break in tonight, I suppose. I’d be interested to see if anything of interest remains. Spell residue or whatnot.”

Reluctantly, Star shook his head. “I think our chance to catch anything fresh has escaped us,” he admitted. “The track’s got magical AND physical janitors. They have to prevent anyone from trying to influence the races. Unless the janitors were lazy or paid off, or they snuck in something that wouldn’t be easy to catch, there won’t be much there now. And if they snuck in something that subtle, it’ll probably still be there tomorrow.” He sighed. “Depending how things shake out, I miiiight swing by tomorrow to see if I can talk to any witnesses, and I’ll check for anything odd if so. But it’s possible there’s nothing we didn’t just learn.”

“Well, I can come with you if you need it,” Viv said. “I’m a little too specialized to help out in all circumstances, but I’ll do what I can. My fortune-telling business isn’t regular hours, so let me know.”

“Yeah, if and when I make plans I’ll text you,” Star said.

That seemed to be it for direct planning for now. The meal conversation shifted to lighter things, though Dandelion and Dom were obviously both preoccupied. After the meal, Adrien and Caoimhe offered to walk Dom home so he’d have solid protection on the way there—without having to dangle Dandelion in front of anyone who might be watching for him. 

“Yeah,” Dom said. “I hate the idea of needing protection, but sure.”

“After that,” Adrien said, “I might check up on some of my lovers tonight in case it’s not just Star’s buddy Dom being targeted, but one of mine as well.” 

Caoimhe looked discomfited. “I’d best do as well. Not with lovers. People I know. It’s none of your business,” she added over her shoulder, leading Dom away.

Viv headed off next, peeling away from the group outside the apartment with another wave and a see you later, which left Star with Dandelion.

“Well, then,” Dandelion murmured, and gestured with his head. Together, they began to walk home. 

A short way in, Dandelion’s hand bumped against his, so Star took it and held on. Dandelion seemed grateful, though he was quiet, serious, his profile elegant in the moonlight as he kept his thoughts to himself.

Once they were inside, Star sighed, shoulders relaxing a touch. Home sweet home, and no sign of intrusion. “Well,” he said. “Guess I’ll head off to the pond…”

“Wait,” Dandelion murmured. “Are you willing to sleep indoors today?”

Star’s heart caught in his throat. “Sure,” he said, deliberately cool, and let Dandelion lead him upstairs. 

The mood wasn’t right for anything more, but they stripped down and slid under the covers together, and Dandelion wrapped his arms around Star, pulling him against his cool, slim chest.

“Do you want,” Dandelion murmured, “that is, I know he didn’t want to go into hiding, but if it becomes necessary for us to whisk him away, do you want to meet the person I’m suggesting hiding Dom with? I know that anyone might be having doubts about my intentions for a rival—” Rival for what? Star wondered. He supposed that having him be a dangerous link to people clearly hunting Dandelion might be enough, but weird way to put it if so. “—so whatever will make you feel the happiest.”

“I trust you wholeheartedly,” Star murmured into Dandelion’s shoulder. “But maybe, yeah, it’d be good to have the details.

“The sooner the better, if you think it might be needed suddenly,” Dandelion murmured.

“Sure,” Star said. He braced himself a little, drawing a rough breath. “Do you have any idea who these two creepers might be, based on what Dom said?”

Dandelion shook his head, his soft, stiff hair making an audible sound against the pillow. “I don’t, not from that description,” he said. “As far as I know, I haven’t made an enemy of any witches. And if it’s a demon, I’d need more than black hair and ashy skin to go off of. But… they might have known me, yes.”

“The name?” Star asked. “What was the whole Dandelion-Seeds thing about? I know it’s not your true name.” That was Asterace, which was a remarkable amount of power for Dandelion to have tried to put back in Star’s hands to close the gap between them. 

“No,” Dandelion agreed. “It was, however, my title, back when I was a noble fae who ranked highly in a court; a title I was permitted to be addressed by. So whoever had brought that up to Dom had known me when I was titled or, at least, known of me by title.”

Star dropped a soothing kiss on his bicep. “It was the other one who said it, but couldn’t the fairy have told it to them?”

“Perhaps,” Dandelion said, considering. “I never knew any brook horses personally before encountering you in the wild, but it’d be more likely for a fairy to know me by that title. But why would a brook horse be the one pushing for me to be hunted down?”

It wasn’t something he liked thinking about, but… “The brook horse could definitely be someone I know,” Star said, “but I’d have no way to know that from the description Dom gave, it was too just… yeah, that’s how a lot of us look. And, again, there’s no particular reason that I can think of for them to bother coming for me, but I was part of a herd for my early years, so in terms of, did I know other brook horses, the answer is yeah, obviously. I don’t know why they’d then ask after you, though.”

Dandelion sighed. “I know you have the general gist of what happened with the tithe.”

Under Star’s body, Dandelion was becoming less comfortable, tense and still. Star tried to play it cool, toying with his own hair against Dandelion’s skin. “Yeah, I mean, generally for sure. Like you said, you refused to hand trapped humans over to demons for the seven-year tithe. That’s pretty on brand for you. You like protecting people.”

Dandelion made an inaudible sound that Star could only feel, not interpret. “Yes, and to put it lightly, I got up into the demon’s faces to do it, and freed the humans from the fairies’ own binding. This made them not our property, and thus we could not hand them over. It was a move that made me fairly unpopular from both sides of the equation. The demons threatened war. Do you remember Ferthur from that incident last year?”

Star did; when they were rushing to deal with the shapeshifter, they took a shortcut through Abyssal territory and met a weird, blorty blood-stag-man who kept gloating about getting The Exile in trouble. However, the two fairy lords he had fetched to try to get authority over Dandelion had ended up not going along with it, and, as the group had talked about earlier, even offered to try to get his exile lifted due to the actions they’d taken that day. Ferthur couldn’t have liked that.

“Hmm,” Star said. “I haven’t, like, forgotten him.”

“He was one of the three demons who had been there to receive the tithe. The other two were Naeri the Lady of Sorrows, and Ramullin of the Wastes. None of them were pleased, and I was exiled in punishment and forbidden to reenter the fae courts.” Dandelion paused, seeming lost in the past. “This meant that I had to pass through the Abyssal lands on my way out, because I’d have to go deeper into the fae lands to get another exit from our realm and was not allowed, but the Abyssal lay right alongside. Although as part of my exile I was permitted to leave, the three demons claimed the right to torture me, each of them one per night, for every night I remained in the Abyssal until I found my way out and into another non-fairy realm. I imagine they intended to keep me disoriented and mislead me as much as possible to keep me there for many years worth of nights.”

Under Star, Dandelion was tense as a board now. Star couldn’t blame him. “Shit,” he whispered.

“Naeri had the first night, and Ramullin had the second, but I managed to escape before Ferthur had his turn; they tortured me for no more than two nights.” Nevertheless, there was a ghost of old pain and true fear around his eyes. Two nights could be a terribly long time. “I imagine that’s why Ferthur was so eager to see me get in trouble during last year’s incident.”

“Shit,” Star said again. He could taste bile at the back of his throat, and he swallowed with long practice. Easy to ignore the burn when you’re familiar with enough old traumas to know you just had to let that feeling go. “It sounds like it could be Ferthur’s doing, but…” It didn’t feel right at all. “…It’s not his style,” he said, finally.

“I agree, actually,” Dandelion said. “Last year, he was blatant and obvious about what he wanted, while also actually being very strict on following the rules of my exile and appealing to the appropriate authority, bringing in the local ruling fae forces to get it witnessed when he thought I was breaking the rules. He strikes me as a very do-it-by-the-book demon, and he always was, even back when I knew him before. Whatever’s happening here feels much more chaotic than the way he’s always behaved.”

Star nodded slowly, curling in closer, tucking his face into Dandelion’s neck. “So it doesn’t seem like it could be him. Unless he offered power to a witch who contacted him, with getting info on you being the payment?”

“Perhaps,” Dandelion said. “I’d say it’s still not his style, but it’s not as if we were bosom companions.” 

“But then, who?” Star muttered.

“Perhaps none of them,” Dandelion said, shifting around, getting comfortable in a way that Star could see he was dismissing all that old hurt and fear and was getting ready to sleep. “We have little information yet.”

“Maybe it’s unrelated to the exile situation,” Star suggested. “Maybe it’s like Stephen King’s Misery.”

“We can only hope it’s simply related to my greatest dishonour, trauma, and personal achievement instead of rabid fandom,” Dandelion said firmly, and tucked Star’s head down against him. “Let’s get some sleep.”

It wasn’t that he wanted to sleep; he had so much left to plan. What, he wondered to himself, should be his first order of business tomorrow? Check on Dom? Go to the track to find witnesses and secrets? Meet this weird friend of Dandelion’s? Follow up on spells from the Twilight Council, or even go there in person to find out if the description of the strange people Dom had given matched anyone they knew? Go to the library or somewhere else to research those demons that Dandelion had mentioned? Some other fucking thing that he’d surely think of? He definitely didn’t have time to do all of them in a day, and probably shouldn’t plan more than one or two of them, in case information changed after he’d done the first couple…

He was still trying to decide on the best order of business as he slipped off to sleep, dreaming of restless waves and the taste of human flesh.

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