Page 71 of Shroom for Improvement

I swished the blade under the water and moved to the other side of my face. “What’s Mrs Z’s deal then?”

“You mean Hades?”

“Oh, my gods!” My hand slipped again, and this time I was holding the razor. A neat line of blood appeared from my zygomatic bone to my jaw. Thank goodness for faes’ rapidly healing skin. I wiped the excess foam from the area with a towel and watched the slice stick itself back together until it was nothing more than a fading red mark. “Mrs Z is Hades, God of the Underworld?”

“Yup. I’m probably not supposed to tell you that, but I haven’t had anyone decent to chat with in approximately sevencenturies, so if they want me to keep my mouth shut, they can fuck off.”

I actually laughed. “Okay, tell me more. I always thought—assumed—Hades was a man.”

“She is when she wants to be. She’s a shapeshifter, and she’s in hiding. Well, not so much hiding, but imprisoned, for diabolical mass crimes against... every species.”

“Wow.” I had so many questions. I dragged the blade up over my top lip, and rinsed off the residue. “What were the crimes? Who imprisoned her, and for how long? Why here at Stinkhorn Manor? And also, how?”

I remembered Oggy saying something about being beyond the cell boundary. Like a literal gaol cell? Was Mrs Ziegler tethered to the house somehow?

“Oh, you know, all the usual crimes. Mass murder, necromancy, inciting a rebellious army of the undead, fighting with the other gods, impersonating Zeus at a charity function, public urination, torture. One of her more brilliant gifts was drawing every moment of guilt or regret from a person and playing them like a private movie inside their minds, reducing them to a cowering husk. She did that to a lot of people. Still would if she had the chance.

“Cannot say who imprisoned her,cough—Hera—cough, cough. Sentence is until the sun freezes, or until she has atoned for her crimes. Here because of the ley lines. The person who imprisoned her, as magically powerful as they are, needed to borrow an inordinate amount of extra magic from the earth, and the ley lines are the point where that magic is as close to the surface as can be. That’s also why I was created here.”

Wow, that was a lot of information to process at once. “What would happen if she tried to leave? Has she ever tried to leave? Why does she hate Mr Dupont so much?”

“If she tries to escape, she will simply evaporate into nothingness, and Mr Dupont is an evil bastard who believes destroying me will destroy her, and therefore leave the Underworld for his taking. But my magic far outweighs his, though it gets weaker the closer we get to the solstices, and he knows this. Still, he cannot crush me, or her, on his own. And just between us, he’s grown rather fond of this cat-and-mouse game he and Mrs Ziegler have going on.”

I wiped my freshly shorn face on the towel and peered at myself in the mirror. If only to give myself some time to process everything. But I realised nothing here was as it seemed.

“Should I be worried? About Mr Dupont, I mean? If he’s trying to destroy Mrs Z by destroying you, would he not attempt to stop me from performing the rhizome ritual?”

I began dressing as Jenny answered.

“He has already made several attempts on your life.”

“Holy shit!”

“But please don’t worry. He might seem scary, but I would never let harm come to you. Or Sonny, for that matter. You both are mine to protect. Besides, his attempts were half-baked at best. Just try not to leave the Stinkhorn Manor boundary wall.”

There goes my idea of finding somewhere outside of Jenny’s reach to have a secret wank. But all the talk about Mrs Ziegler and Mr Dupont had softened my cock to a point I no longer felt the irrepressible need to touch it and relieve the pressure. I’d have to remember that for next time.

When I re-entered my room, Sonny was already waiting for me. He wore black jeans and a black T-shirt that had only words printed on the front:Ask Me About My Ghost Disguise. He stood beside my bookcases and was perusing a palm-sized leather-bound book.

“What’s with the shirt?” I said, reaching the bottom of the spiral staircase. I didn’t specifically want to ask him about his ghost disguise, but I was curious.

“Oh.” He flushed. “It’s from my friend, Mash. Like a novelty gift. Have you not seen these before?”

I shook my head.

His flush extended further, right up onto his temples. Then inexplicably, he lifted the front of his shirt, exposing his pale, lean, almost concave stomach, his chest and nipples. Oh, my goodness. And brought the underside of the shirt up to his face. It took me a while to tear my eyes away from his perfect form and see there was a print of a ghost’s head there and the wordBOOunderneath it. He hastily dropped the hem and rearranged it over his stomach.

“Witty,” I said, turning my face to hide my blush. “Are those your new jeans?”

“My new-old jeans,” he said. And then, gods help me, he did a twirl and I got the most marvellous, too-brief view of his ass.

Jenny had known what it was doing the moment it placed those trousers in Sonny’s possession. I had never seen any item of clothing fit someone so impeccably. It was like they’d been fashioned from denim hands, gently caressing his buttocks, lifting them up, putting them on fabulous display for me.

The first inappropriate thought that flitted through my mind was,damn, I hope he’s a bottom. The second was,maybe I could ask him during our truth or dare games.

“Shall we go down for breakfast?” I asked, desperate to stop thinking about Sonny’s butt in order to keep the front of my trousers flat, but turning my head and whispering, “Thank you,” to Jenny.

“It’s a gift for both of us,” Jenny said. I pretended I’d heard nothing.

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