“Oh, our appearances change. You’ll get used to it,” said the fae with now not-ginger eyebrows, obviously sensing my confusion. “I’m Willow. I use they, them pronouns, and this is Oggy. She uses she, her. We wrote to you. We’re the custodians.”
“Ah, yes... well, nice to meet you. Um, Claude... he, him. However, there seems to have been some mistake.” I waved a hand towards the tremendously imposing dick castle.
“You’re not Mr Stinkhorn, Lord of Mushrooms?” Oggy asked, her eyes wide, her moustache now replicating the exact rust colour of my hair.
“No, yes, I am. I am he. I mean, that’s me. It’s just... I cannot... with this. No.” I shook my head as though to emphasise my very succinctly made point. “I think, if it’s okay with you, I might go back to the city.” It was a seventeen-hour drive, but to heck was I staying in this penis palace. Even if only for one night.
“Hoo,” said Willow on an outward breath. They shared a look with Oggy, motioned to speak, and closed their mouth again.
“We’re sentry fae. And you know fae can’t lie?” Oggy said. I nodded. “So, yeah. Basically, the problem is... you can’t leave.”
I laughed. Just once. A snort of air through my nostrils. “No. No. That cannot... No, I have to go.”
“You can certainly try,” Willow said.
I scrubbed a hand down my face, straightened my waistcoat, blew out my breath.
“But you will not get far,” they added.
“How? How? Why? Please?”
Let it never be said shroom fae were not extremely gifted wordsmiths.
“Well, aside from the fact the house won’t allow you to leave, we need you,” said Oggy.
Whatever I was about to say caught in my throat. “Need me how?” I could circle back to the whole house-not-letting-me-leave thing later.
“Hooo,” Willow said again, laughing and rubbing their belly. “Probably best if we show you.” They turned to Oggy. “Full tour?”
“Got to happen sometime,” Oggy replied.
“Let’s give you the full tour.”
“But if you two change your appearances at will, how can I tell you apart?” I asked, as I dodged around a rusty overturned trough I suspected was riddled with tetanus.
The sentry fae had decided the best place to start the tour of the house—during which they promised to explain the reason, or reasons, it was so imperative I stayed—was the part being used as the B&B. But the “quaint” bed and breakfast was at the rear of the property, and the quote-unquote house was being “uncooperative,” so we had to take the “scenic” route around all the schlong spires and through the junkyard chaos that was apparently the gardens.
“Oh, we don’t change our appearance at will,” Oggy said brightly. “It changes itself.”
“It feeds off our mood, or our companions’ mood, or the environment, or... well anything, really,” Willow added. They deftly hopscotched over a piece of abandoned farm equipment. A wagon wheel of some variety.
“And as far as telling us apart goes, you’ll know. It’s not that difficult. You’re doing it now, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but now it’s easy,” I said. “Oggy, you have a moustache and Willow, you have... okay, now you have white eyebrows, but what am I to do if, say, you both have moustaches?”
“You will just know,” Oggy said, in what I assumed was meant to be a soothing voice.
“But what if I don’t?” Genuine panic bubbled up my throat.
“And here’s the B&B,” Willow said, holding out their arm like a game show host, and evidently deciding all discussion of their appearance was over. “It’s called The Night Cap.”
It hadn’t been a long walk around the wiener fortress, or indeed an arduous one, but for some reason I was out of breath. My chest heaved, and my lungs shook with each gasp. I placed my hands on my knees and tried to steady my breathing before looking up at The Night Cap.
“Oh, yeah, that’ll be the house,” Willow said, pointing to my chest. “It does that sometimes. Least of your worries but—”
Oggy slapped Willow across the arm with the back of her hand, and Willow shut their mouth instantly. I finally looked up and lost my breath once again because...
“It’s surprisingly normal. The Night Cap. It looks like a normal building.”