The Book of Ellipses and Tea

By Susan Skylark

At long last, here is the 'Tea and Ellipses' box set along with the first release of the cross over novel: 'Of Tea...and Shadows!'
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Of Tea...and Things:

Everyone knows there are things and then there are Things, but happily Tea is nowhere near so complicated, so grab a cup and join Miss Iris as she ponders the impossible, the improbable, and the downright improper, at least for a Lady who tries to abide by the Standards. But what does one do when the Proper Thing is impossible? That’s what adventures are for, even if it is not thought quite, well, the proper thing, conventionally speaking of course. Just be sure to brew enough tea for an Aunt Mildred, the Fairy Queen, a Gentleman or Three, plus a Quilting Circle and many more; you never know who, or what, might show up at this particular tea party!

It's 'Northanger Abbey' meets 'The Greylands' with just a dash of 'The Foibles' thrown in for good measure. Whether you're looking for a good laugh, high society, a remedial lesson in Philosophy, lots of Natural History, or various Queens on the rampage, you never know what will happen next, except tea of course, unless you are a Thing. So grab your favorite cup and join the party!
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Tea for Two...Hundred:

Here we go again, good thing there's plenty of tea involved or this might be considered scandalously ridiculous, but then anything this much fun usually is, tea or not. Join Miss Iris as she happens upon more outrageous adventures and meet a whole clan of new friends, but be careful, they bite! Good thing there's always an Aunt handy or things might get truly out of hand.

Just when you thought things couldn't get any zanier, someone publishes a second volume, but then the Standards necessitate that all novels come in triplicate so it was probably inevitable, but that's nothing compared to the conundrum in which Iris finds herself. Just when she's hitting her stride in her new occupation she's asked to resign for no reason and Things only get more interesting from there. Pay a visit to the most Dreaded Folk in the Wood and surviving that, to the even more dreaded heart of Elvendom, where boring isn't just for the poetry but is the Standard for everything. If that weren't enough, Iris must also deal with Outlandish Philosophers, magical kitchen staples, a sensible ball, and an aunt with an existential crisis. You never know what will happen next!
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Tea's...Company:

As certain as Death and Taxes, the third volume is upon us, and must be endured as all else, but at least this one will make you smile as you go insane, just ask Uncle Max!

It was inevitable, the Three Volume Novel is as much a law of physics as gravity, round out your metaphysical education with A Theory of Relativity, as taught by Uncle Cumberbun, pertaining mostly to Uncles but with a smattering of Auntishness thrown in; don’t forget Grammar Reform, Zombies, deadly kitchen gadgets, dancing amphibians, and gallons of excellent tea, stay away from the third door on the right, but pull up an ugly chair and enjoy this zany third volume at your leisure. Hobnob with snobbish toads, enjoy a legal dispute with a vampire, experience a minor zombie apocalypse, see what happens when a fairy with a learner’s permit gets mad, and explore a variety of shabby sitting rooms, but beware the roving Aunts and a rather strict housekeeper, lest they interrupt your fun!
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Of Tea...and Shadows:

Here comes the apocalypse, or the next nearest Thing. Yep, Jace is in town! Just when you thought this story couldn't get any more peculiar, someone invited the rogue Shadow from another reality entirely! Enjoy his romp through a world almost as strange as himself, but don't worry, Baye and the unicorns will try and keep him out of trouble, a feat even an Aunt Thrice Great might not be able to accomplish! There are Things and Things and then there is Jace, find out what happens when you combine the two! A short cross

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Skylark
• Release date: Dec 18, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463265512

Susan Skylark

Once upon a time there was a sensible young lady who pursued a practical career, but finding it far less fulfilling than the proponents of the modern fairytale promulgate, she then married a clergyman, much to everyone’s astonishment, including her own, and in proper fairytale fashion keeps house for the mysterious gentleman in a far away land, spending most of her time in company with a very short, whimsical person who can almost speak English. She enjoys fantasy, fairy tales, and adventure stories and her writing reflects this quaint affectation. She considers Happy Endings (more or less) a requisite to good literature and sanity, though real stories never, truly end.

Book preview

The Book of Ellipses and Tea

Susan Skylark

Copyright 2019 Susan Skylark

Smashwords Edition

Cover update 2023, image AI generated with Leonardo.ai

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

Table of Contents:

Of Tea… and Things

Tea for Two…Hundred

Tea’s… Company

Of Tea…and Shadows (Guest-starring Jace from the ‘In Shadow’ series)

Other Books By This Author

‘The Last Shadow,’ Excerpt

The Pallid Knight (‘The Greylands: Volume V,’ Excerpt)

‘Once a Thief’ Excerpt

‘On Sleeping Beauties: A Foible’, Excerpt

Wisdom’s Children (a Story from ‘Over the Hills and Far Away’)

Of Tea...and Things

Susan Skylark

Copyright 2018 Susan Skylark

Smashwords Edition

Table of Contents:

In Which Miss Iris Misses Tea

Pertaining to Dowagers

Extreme Measures

A Sewing Lesson

Riding to Hounds

On Uncles

Impish Delight

A Long Awaited Meeting

Of Plots and Plots

His Lordship’s Night Out

A Questionable Personage

An Introduction to Villainy

A Little More Scandal in the Park with No Tea to Follow

Into the Woods

Scandals Various

The Great Enemy of Bureaucracy

In Which Miss Iris Misses Tea

There she stood in her second best dress on the front steps of her husband’s marvelous and imposing townhouse, clutching the most disreputable portmanteau in the staff’s possession, or at least the most scandalous specimen that could be procured on short notice. She would not even have been allowed to keep the dress, had it not been considered quite improper to allow her back inside to change into something less grand. She had never imagined when she had stepped out that morning to make a call upon a certain influential social matron that she would be facing such a crisis upon her return, had she known that to be the case, she at least would have worn her Best Dress, a scandal in its own right certainly, but one easily overlooked in the even deeper scandal that had washed over her with all the rage and suddenness of a tsunami. Of course she had never worn the Best Dress, no one did, not unless the Queen herself happened to stop by unannounced for tea! Her current surprise was no less had that been the shock awaiting her but it was certainly far less pleasant, or so she assumed, never having had tea with Her Majesty, she could not be quite certain, but she thought it was at least probable.

She tried to plead again with the dour faced butler but he only shook his head grimly and pointed harshly down the road, as if she were naught but a beggar woman squatting upon the doorstep rather than his mistress of a decade. Former mistress it seemed. Said the appalled housekeeper, from behind the grim brute of a butler who seemed suddenly all brawny shoulders, a feature she had never before paid much heed, move along miss, it would not do to make a scene.

With a final sigh, her shoulders slumping and her elegant train trailing dejectedly after her, Iris descended the proud and fashionable steps, wondering what the society papers would say on the morrow and how many hidden eyes were watching from behind seemingly vacant windows. There was no sense arguing, it was just the way things were. She had forgotten, well she knew this day might come, but she had hoped something would happen to spare her such an ignomious fate, that her husband’s fondness for her would somehow protect her, that he might forget, but it seemed that he had not and no amount of love, however inordinate, could make up for the indignity she had caused him, the insult was unforgivable and imperiling his family line as she had was perhaps the greatest indignity of all, if not a crime in and of itself.

‘Miss,’ the word haunted her, she who had only that morning stepped out as Mrs. Iris Andromeda Baren Candor Donaldo Eveleff Garand Hatt Indigo...Zebula. Twenty-six surnames, one for each letter of the alphabet, outlining her husband’s extensive, impressive, and most ancient lineage, but now she was simply ‘miss.’ She opened the bag hopefully, for perhaps her future lay therein, but there was nothing within, save a few sentimental knickknacks she had brought with her upon her most fortuitous marriage. Once fabulously wealthy, her material worth was now as diminished as her name. She had a few coins about her person, a surplus of lace handkerchiefs, and a fan, but nothing else save the clothes on her back and the hat on her head. Perhaps she could still return home, she doubted it, but it was the only thing she could think of to spare herself from an even less desirable fate.

She raised a hand to hail a cab, a thing no proper lady would do, for that is what one had servants for, so it took no little time to actually attract that attention of a driver and get him to pull his overworked nag over to the side of the pavement whereon her former ladyship stood. They assumed she was having a fit or communicating with some other personage or fainting or something appropriately ladylike, not trying to get the attention of such a loathsome creature as a cabby. But at last someone did dare to thwart all common reason and social propriety and pulled over to see what the perplexing dame was up to, but not before a rather scandalous looking person, who made Iris’s skin crawl even at a distance, sidled up to her most knowingly and said in very familiar tones, there’s but one thing for you to do miss, you’re still a pretty-ish thing, and don’t you worry, we’ll be waiting when you finally resign yourself to reality. He winked at her in a most reprehensible fashion and then slouched off rather too smugly for anyone’s comfort but his own.

Iris shuddered in revulsion as she climbed into the cab, gave her address, and tried not to think as they rolled off in the direction of her childhood home. She couldn’t, absolutely not! But if her parents likewise disowned her, it would be her only option. But no, they wouldn’t, they couldn’t! But they did. The cab drew up in a very unfashionable part of town and she paid him his fare, all she had left and with nothing extra for his trouble. She couldn’t tell if he was angry, scandalized, or seemed to understand her plight, so blank were his face and eyes, the result of a lifetime of carrying to and fro those whose business was none of his. The vehicle rattled off and she prepared to face her parents, hoping against hope that they would not see things as all of society did, that this scandal was none of her own doing, but they undoubtedly would.

Her father was a craftsman, he worked with his hands, and while he made a good living for his large family, such a family was not likely to be the source of a bride for one of society’s elite; it just wasn’t done. So it was quite the fairy tale to those who knew the family, and quite the scandal to everyone else, when his Lordship had chosen Iris to be his bride. It was the habit of some of the great lords’ sons and certain wealthy young bucks to go ‘slumming’ amid the lower classes as both a form of amusement and a means of temporally escaping the stuffy and inflexible world into which they had been born. They’d don ‘rough’ clothes and attend a public ball in the less affluent parts of town and dance the night away with many a miller’s daughter and tradesman’s niece. It was in just such an environment that Iris met her husband, well former husband, and he was so taken with her that he insisted on marrying her.

Many insisted that he would one day rue his choice, mostly those with eligible daughters of their own, and today seemed to be proving them right. She was neither rich nor powerful nor did she know anyone who was, but her family was respectable, if middle class, but most importantly, she came of a large and healthy family. Her mother had been prolific in the production of children and he had no doubt that it was a trait his admired lady would likewise possess. So they were married, much to the delight of everyone who had any care or love for the happiness of those involved, but all others were appalled, most especially his peers and relations. Gradually they got used to the idea and the scandalized talk and impolite remarks vanished into the background as other, more interesting scandals arose to replace them, but they would no doubt spring back to life after today’s little affair.

It was exactly ten years and nine months to the day since she wed what she thought was the love of her life, but here she stood outside the door of her childhood home, hoping that her parents would welcome her home once more. But the unemotional maid that answered the door did not look like a bearer of gladsome tidings, said she in a scandalized tone, please come round to the back, miss, the front door is only for proper visitors.

Ugh! At least they answered the door, perhaps they just wanted to avoid more public scandal, best to keep this affair away from prying eyes in any case. She hustled to the door that opened off a side alley into the kitchens, hoping to find peace at last, but she was merely handed a few table scraps for her trouble and told that the master of the house, though not unkindly, was not prone to humor beggars who repeatedly accosted his servants. Beggar?! But in truth that’s what she was, she had dared marry into one of the Great Families, and in failing to uphold her part of the bargain, after the legally prescribed period, she was cast back into the street, and having thus embarrassed herself and all the Greats so thoroughly, her family dared not offer her succor, lest they seem complicit in the eyes of all society in this most unfortunate affair. There were also yet children at home and the presence of such a specter lurking about the house would undoubtedly affect their chances of marrying well, or at all. To them and all society, it was as if she had never been. She wasn’t even considered as one dead, one who at least had lived and would be missed, rather she no longer existed and never had.

What was left to her? She considered the filthy and disreputable man who had accosted her, almost as dreadful as her handbag, but she shuddered in disgust, she’d rather starve! Staring down bleakly at her meager handful of scraps, the only legacy her parents would bequeath her, she knew she very well might. But it would be far better to die an honest, though wretched death, than to play the harlot for her bread. But was there no other choice? She sighed heavily as she slunk out of the alley, little heeding where she was going but knowing she could no longer remain where she was, all of her attention was focused inward on the disaster that was now her life.

It wasn’t her fault, or so she hoped, she really didn’t mean to be barren, she came of fruitful stock on both sides, but in those ten years and nine months, she had never given her husband even the hope of a child. But as far as society saw it, she had deceived him, wasted precious time in which he might have been fathering children, endangered the stability of the family line, for what would happen if he died without leaving children? She did have to smile, in a grim and ironic sort of way, that she had had ten years and nine months, just in case she happened to conceive on the last day of the prescribed ten years, you never could tell, but as she had not produced an heir in the final nine months either, she was unceremoniously cast from her home and society, driven from safety and security like a common thief. And now her only hope was to become a harlot, this too elicited that grimly amused smile, for what safer woman for such a job? There being so slight a chance of producing bastard children and the lady herself being cast out of all decent society, in desperate need of both sustenance and protection.

Better to face the Wilds than suffer such a fate! She stood on the edge of town, her unwitting wanderings having brought her thus, near one of the great gates that opened in the wall surrounding the city and allowed traffic in and out during daylight hours, but which were firmly shut every evening to keep Things out. What Things, she had never rightly heard, it wasn’t proper for her young female mind to be apprised of such Things, but rest assured, between the Wall and the Watch, she’d not need to worry about any of them. She just needed to focus on finding a decent husband. Well, that and having a superfluity of children. She had succeeded quite well in the first case but failed abysmally in the second. With a heavy sigh, she marched straight out the gate and into the wide world without and none dared stop her, for though a lady of breeding NEVER left the Walls without a proper escort, it was even more taboo to interfere with such, no matter how improper seemed her intentions.

She had travelled abroad several times with her husband upon various errands and visits, but she had never left town alone and afoot before, certainly not as a girl, for even people of her father’s lowly social status had Standards. But she was quite thoroughly disgusted with Standards and for a time relished the odd looks shot her way by the various farmers, tradesmen, and servants that passed her by upon their own errands. She found it quite exhilarating at first, to be thwarting social conventions so thoroughly; cast her out would they?! Well, she might just as well spurn them! She’d leave of her own accord and that was that. The leaving part was easy, it was what was to be done afterwards that terrified her enough that the ratty man’s offer didn’t seem so bad upon recollection, but she chastised herself as a milk-hearted sniveler and kept marching further away from the only life she had ever known, but just what was she speeding towards?

Things. Oh why oh why would they not tell her about Things?! Not knowing was probably worse than the most horrid truth, then she must resort to making things up and a young girl’s imagination could be quite gruesome, likely more so than the actual reality. Well, this was her big chance to find out. And whatever her fate, it couldn’t be worse than harlotry, not that she knew much about that either, just enough to encourage her to produce a baby or ten lest it be all her future. She started to cast back within her mind, seeking stories, rumors, gossip, lies, anything she could remember of life outside the city, beyond the town, things her brothers discovered in their studies, overheard snippets of the servants’ gossip, gran’s fireside tales, the talk amongst her father’s friends over their pipes when she was thought long abed.

Of course she had been taught, as all decent and proper young ladies were, about the Old World, and the Ancient Days, of all the horrible and uncouth things that had happened before civilization and decency and Standards, when the world was wild and young and wide, when people were the myth and all sorts of uncouth folk roamed the earth. But all that happened in another age, another time, probably in another place, for nothing very interesting ever happened in or near the city, at least that she had ever heard of, at least not interesting to her, she didn’t consider the latest social scandal intriguing in the least, which may be why she never quite fit in to Society, children or not.

As the day began to fade into evening, she allowed herself a brief respite from her introspection to take the lay of the land and consider what might be her best option for the imminent night. The fields and pasturelands and neat little coppice woods that had straddled the road for the entirety of the journey suddenly gave way before her to a wood seemingly as dark and expansive as the night sky that seemed intent upon devouring all that remained of the dying day. The road itself skirted this impressive forest by a wide margin, continuing on its prim and proper way, seemingly contemptuous of the wild and unkempt country that bordered one side. Well, thought she, Society and their Standards have utterly cast me out, why should I tread their roads and prescribed paths any longer? So with a shrug of defiance, she stepped off the smug little road and clove her way into the murky and trackless wood.

The first thing she noticed was that her fashionable garb, though quite suited to the trackless wastes of societal gatherings, was quite a hindrance in actual trackless wastes. The second was that it was quite dark, as if one had foolishly locked oneself inside a wardrobe. Unable any longer to ascertain what was before her, and tripping most inelegantly over some branch or rock, and even uncertain where the edge of the forest now lay, she could do little but sit down and cry, for at last her heart had caught up with her mind, originally numbed by the shock of it all, she had been able to act almost dispassionately, but out here, at last, her sorrow and fears overtook her. Of course proper ladies were not allowed to cry, but as she was no longer of that ilk, she unashamedly wept her little heart out until at last she passed blissfully into unknowing sleep.

She did what?! said the astonished, though otherwise thoroughly tidy, man in wonder.

She vanished into that dratted Wood, sir, said the equally flabbergasted henchman, adding quickly, I offered her the usual and assumed she’d come begging the moment she discovered just how limited her options were. I never took her for the outdoorsy type.

If she was just some common trollop, began the distinguished looking man, dressed to the height of current fashion, as he pensively paced the room, it would be of no matter if she did choose to so lose herself and be set upon by Things. No one would care or notice, but this chit was special! I had a double-sided list as long as my arm of gentlemen callers wanting to make her acquaintance. It is not often such a scandal rocks Society and when it does, our men of Fashion should be able to take advantage of it. She’s costing me money, lots of money, and worse, notoriety! Her reputation alone is worth more than five of my most talented ladies combined. He glared at the hapless minion as if this whole fiasco was his fault, have we no options?

You know no one who goes into that Wood ever returns, stuttered the terrified henchman, at least in a recognizable form.

True, sighed the dandy, too true, you should have just kidnapped her outright.

Knowing what we do now, I would have, but I like to give them the chance to despair first, smiled the lackey wickedly, it makes their final surrender and despair all the sweeter and seems to even make them grateful to us for saving them from utter ruin.

Why can’t she just be reasonable like every other girl in the realm? mused the cad in a gentleman’s garb.

There were whispers you know, sir, said the flunky in dubious and hushed tones.

Yes, slurred that non-gentleman, and if true, perhaps she would have been a most troublesome acquisition indeed. But was there truly any proof that she did, indeed, he paused cautiously, as if to ensure they were truly alone before continuing in a quieter voice, as he uttered the astonishing word, read?

I managed to speak to several of her former staff, both in her husband’s and her father’s house, and they agreed that she did in fact do just that, said the sub-villain, not daring even to say the dastardly deed aloud.

It is not, mused the senior villain, that a lady cannot be allowed to read, but it is her choice of literature that is of the utmost import. You are certain it was not just flimsy novels and the society papers?

Nay milord, said the henchman grimly, it was books, solid and heavy books, any she could lay hand to, not that it was an easy thing in her social circumstances, but they say she found rather creative ways to go about it, vulgar chit!

Does she know something we do not about that forest or Things? asked he.

I doubt it sir, said the henchman boldly, for even the most well read of men knows little of that cursed Wood, and whatever means she used to contrive access to a book, it is very unlikely she would come across anything helpful in that regard when men with ready access to such information know nothing.

Quite true, said the non-gentleman in growing good humor, perhaps she would have been quite an encumbrance to own, a pity, but perhaps it is for the best after all.

While Iris could see nothing going on around her, not only because she was sleeping as one dead, but also because that peculiar Wood was draped in an unnatural night, that did not mean things weren’t going on. While all the human folk in those parts thought this particular Wood haunted, cursed, forsaken, et cetera, it was really none of those things, for it was always near to bursting with activity of various sorts and tenanted by some of the most upstanding individuals imaginable, though perhaps they did not recognize the Standards as holy writ, which was probably the main argument against calling such folk civilized, they were quite civilized in their own particular way, one which Society might very well have called uncouth, could they ever glimpse such a spectacle of course. But as they couldn’t, all were kindly spared that sort of unpleasantness.

A lady?! said a very astonished voice, lurking in the shrubbery near where said lady reposed in quite un-Standard fashion.

Quite, chuckled a second voice in reply.

Of all the strange and wonderful things one might glimpse in this peculiar Wood, mused the first, this is one spectacle I never thought to see.

Anything is possible here, said the second voice in ill-suppressed amusement.

Anything out of the ordinary, agreed the first, but such a spectacle is quite ordinary in the outer world.

But it would be a peculiar scene here and thus one would think it quite possible, along with all the other impossible scenes one might certainly witness herein, continued the second, no longer hiding his mirth.

I suppose your reasoning must be sound, said the first with a shake of his head, if not here, then certainly somewhere. He glanced back at the sleeping lady, but it seems so mundane.

Again you are stating the obvious, my friend, smiled the second, please stop!

But then what shall we speak of? quoth the first with a wry grin.

Now who is the one being mundane? laughed the second outright.

True, said the first ruefully, I sound like some oblivious gentleman at a societal function where we can speak nothing but the blatantly obvious.

The lady’s presence is corrupting you already, said the second in feigned horror, what will happen to the balance of our acquaintance?

Dreadful thought indeed! agreed the first, but lapsing into sudden silence as the lady in question stirred.

Who is there? queried she, trying to sound valiant and unafraid but managing only to sound like a lonely kitten mewing forlornly in a dark alley. Iris glanced about her futilely, all about her hidden in mist and shadow. At least the utter black of night had given way to a twilit world of murky shadow but she was still nearly as blind, not even able to see her feet amidst the brume, but she was quite certain she had been wakened by voices.

The first looked at the second in question, he only shrugged and stepped forward out of the swirling mists, that the lady might know what it was that lurked unseen just beyond sight. She gasped to see that she was not alone in this surreal world, but as she had been anticipating Things, two gentlemen dressed in quality but conservative evening dress were not exactly what she had been expecting, seeing her quickly hidden look of disappointment, the first said to the second, see, she was thinking to discover something less mundane in this peculiar Wood as well. Upon which, all exchanged Standard greetings, before the first spoke once more, how come you here madam and may we be of any assistance?

She fought valiantly but the tears still came, said she through her sobs and hiccups, I am quite at a loss, gentlemen, for I’ve been Forsaken by kith and kin, cast out for the most heinous of offenses. I wonder that you would even deign speak with me.

The first man could not suppress a grin, we don’t often get to read the society papers, milady. You will be happy to know that your society’s standard is not ours.

She blinked at him as if he had said he routinely employed an ostrich in lieu of a carriage horse, said she in some befuddlement, what then is your Standard? I know I am Outcast, but if you are equally so, have you not turned bandit or outlaw or something equally uncivilized?

Your society certainly would not approve of our various goings on, madam, assured the second, his own grin as wide as his fellow’s, but we are far from lawless men. Indeed, we cling to a standard even higher and older than that to which you refer.

She smiled sadly at these poor benighted men, lost so long in the dark and mist that they must truly have lost all sense of decency and propriety, not to mention physical direction, but then again, it was the Standards that had proclaimed she must be cast from all decent company and protections for an act which was not willfully done and was in nowise her fault and said that her former kith and kin must have nothing whatsoever to do with her ever again whilst these respectable seeming gentlemen were at least treating her as a real and valuable person.

Said she in polite ignorance, I suppose there must be other Standards in the world, those that govern conduct say in former times or distant places, perhaps it is of this you speak?

Something like that indeed, my lady, said the first with a grandiose bow, but come, what crime or perception thereof has driven you so far from home?

They both blinked in wonder at her brief tale, said the second, and how is it you chose to flee to this peculiar Wood, whose reputation may be even worse among fashionable folk than even the flesh dealers that offered you succor?

I’ve never heard aught of this Wood, either good or ill, said she simply, women are not told such things. I’ve tried to read up on things, not Things mind you, but anything I could lay hands on, but even that study was limited, for it is thought quite uncouth for a woman, particularly one of my standing, to know things, especially about Things. She brightened significantly at this, now that I am a woman of ill-repute, will you tell me about the Things?

What things? queried the first in confusion.

You know! said she a bit abashedly, The reason the city has walls, the Things they are meant to keep out!

The men exchanged a rather amused grin, at which she frowned, thinking their mirth sprang from her ignorance, but the second reassured her, I am not sure why they built the walls if they think to repel Things from within this Wood, that is utterly ridiculous, but perhaps your folk do not understand that or it makes them feel better regardless, but either way, if the walls were meant to keep your folk safe from Things within the Wood, they are sorely mistaken.

I see, said she rather lamely, but perked up as she considered, still, if they are afraid of Things, there must be a reason and I would dearly love to learn it.

I am afraid what your folk fear and the actual reality of the situation are two very different things, milady, said the first with a regretful shake of his head, continuing swiftly as she tried to interject eagerly, and some of those truths cannot be imparted to you, for either the world is not ready or is forbidden from knowing or even we know not the truth of the matter.

She shut her eagerly gaping mouth and merely broached a disappointed, oh, feeling again a little girl whose father had just told her serious books were not within the proper domain of womenfolk.

That and there is not time enough between now and the end of days to thoroughly discuss such a topic, added the second hurriedly.

So you are saying, mused she, that though much must yet remain hidden from my ravenously curious mind, there are still enough facts of interest to keep me thoroughly occupied for the rest of my born days?

Certainly miss, grinned the first, the better question would be, what do you need to know, what would be the most important topic to begin your education?

She stood and brushed the residual brush from her hopelessly rumpled dress, touched her now feral hair with an appalled hand, only to discover her stylish hat was also missing, and said in resignation, I suppose one’s wardrobe and appearance are not of the utmost import within this wild wood of yours? If the residents hereof are not at all concerned with mortal walls, I would assume physical appearance would also be of little import? Both men offered her a smart half bow of affirmation, their eyes sparkling in delight at her quick assessment of the situation and seemingly innate understanding thereof. She glanced around morosely at the unpromising gloom and asked, and I suppose what I can see of this dismal place is hardly to be used as a measure to judge the Wood as a whole or even in part?

Indeed! agreed the second happily, You have a fine grasp upon the situation, for having just arrived and being... He trailed off awkwardly, not knowing how to state the obvious in a delicate and politic manner.

She grinned at him, quite like an excited and unabashed child, being a former society matron?

Quite, seconded the first.

I suppose the most important matter to determine is what is to come of me? she gazed at her interlocutors earnestly.

I suppose we cannot just throw her back? grinned the second in a most impish fashion.

At this, the lady gaped unwittingly like the metaphorical fish to which she had just been compared, little realizing that she had likewise committed a faux pas of vast egregiousness along with her companion: that of comparing a lady to an aquatic animal, it just was not done, at least not in proper circles, but as she glanced about once more, she was reminded just how far removed she now was from those very circles and decided to let the perceived insult pass unremarked, whereat the first came magnanimously to her rescue with, you shouldn’t compare a lady to a fish, my friend, not on any account.

I suppose not, agreed the second, but our quandary still remains, bad metaphors not withstanding.

It does at that, frowned the first pensively, eyeing the lady, he asked, and what shall come of you madam?

I haven’t a clue, said she morosely, I was hoping you could tell me!

The outer world has utterly forsaken you, mused the second aloud, yet you have no official place or standing within the Wood.

Must I? queried she, all curiosity.

The first nodded grimly, aye madam, for without it you would find yourself in grave peril, for there are many factions and an ever shifting balance of power and most of the denizens have little love for mortals. At best they would ignore you, but there are many who would do far worse for the temerity you have shown in violating their Wood.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied them anew, yet you are not afraid to go gallivanting about as it pleases you? They both smiled at this, an irksome gesture, reminiscent of a smug and mysterious cat, with just as much hope of prying a satisfactory answer out of them as to the significance thereof. Sighed she in obvious disdain, fine, keep your secrets! I can only then assume that I cannot safely depend upon physical appearance as a concrete sign of anything in this odd place?

You are quite correct, milady, agreed the first, hope may be found within a monstrous guise and danger in the most innocuous.

So you are not two gentlemen of means and leisure who have happened upon me in my hour of need? asked she.

We have happened upon you in your hour of need, quite providentially if I may add, said the second.

And we are certainly Gentlemen, at least as the term should be defined, though not as the word is realized in your society, added the First.

And we are certainly not men of leisure, chuckled the Second.

Added the First, but we certainly have the means to accomplish the necessary.

So what is to come of me? asked she plaintively.

What are your wishes and desires madam? retorted the First.

I want to belong somewhere, said she pensively, to not be judged by things beyond my control. To be valued for what I am, rather than for what I am not or what I own or to whom I was born or for what I might do.

The search of every quivering soul, nodded the Second.

Can I find it? asked she, hoping against hope, Here or anywhere?

It is quite attainable, smiled the First, if you truly desire it.

I do! said she, Who doesn’t?

Everyone desires it of course, said the First, but most prefer to attempt to attain it in their own way, by their own power or cunning or strength, but it can only be attained one way.

The Standards? asked she nervously.

Is your society’s attempt at attaining it, yes, nodded the Second sagely, but it is not the true Way.

Good! said she with a sigh of relief, For I’ve tried it and found it extremely vexatious and thoroughly wanting. Her eyes narrowed suddenly, how can you be so certain there is only one Way? That sounds rather myopic and closed minded if there are as many different cultures, tribes, traditions, and peoples in the world and even beyond it as you imply?

What does your society think of any that don’t hold their Standard dear? countered the First.

We think them uncivilized heathens, said she at once, narrowing her eyes in thought and adding, which makes me wonder if the truly civilized way to look at the matter is to see that perhaps there are many roads to the same destination?

And what would happen if you found a road and started traveling thereupon, assuming it must bear you wherever you had a mind to go regardless of whither it truly went? asked the Second.

That is ridiculous, giggled she, a road can only go betwixt the places it is built; my wishes mean nothing.

Should not the same be true of attempting to attain a certain end? queried the first, If you wish to obtain milk, one does not approach an obliging rock or climb a tree. Your society is right in its assumption that their Standard must be seen as the only way to achieve their desired end or chaos and confusion would result, even if they are wrong about the means thereof. They have the right idea but the wrong road.

Humph, grunted she in disgust, realizing how much of a waste her life had been up until this very moment, but brightening added, so how is one to attain the proper end?

Take the right road, said the First cryptically.

Show me this way, then, urged she.

It will cost you everything, milady, said the Second quietly.

I have nothing left, countered she.

Materially speaking, perhaps, agreed the First, but adding, but what of your hopes, dreams, fears, doubts, time, preferences, prejudices, opinions, and physical being, all that makes up your heart, mind, body, and soul?

I must become nothing? said she in growing alarm.

The Second shook his head minutely and said quietly, so much so that she had to strain to hear him, we are nothing, or rather, each of us is accounted as nothing when compared to that which we seek. It is none of our doing, we come naked and empty handed, filthy and alone, disgusting beggars with nothing to recommend us.

She was trembling, whether in fear or anticipation, perhaps both, she scarcely knew, but licking her lips, she said just as quietly, I am utterly wretched, beneath these fancy rags lurks nothing of worth or substance, yet you say it need not be so?

Aye, milady, smiled the First in growing anticipation, in forsaking what we think we want, only then can we discover that which we truly need.

Then show me, said she eagerly. The two gentlemen exchanged one of those maddeningly mystifying looks, bowed graciously to the lady, and then the world spun into blackness, dark as starless night.

Pertaining to Dowagers

Well that was certainly odd, remarked Lady Iris to nobody in particular, as she suddenly jerked awake to find herself in the familiar jolting of an otherwise empty carriage, she must have nodded off! At least there was no one in the carriage to notice her unseemly mistake, and a quick feel of hat and hair assured her that everything was in its proper place and condition. What a peculiar dream! She relaxed back into the cushioned seat to muse upon the oddities of her slumbering mind, perhaps a little disappointed at the realization that it had only been a dream, when suddenly she sat straight up and intently studied the interior of the vehicle, realizing that it was not her husband’s familiar equipage, though similar, it was an entirely different carriage.

Suddenly her pulse raced and she smiled eagerly, for it hadn’t been a dream after all, it was wonderfully, strangely, exhilaratingly real! But what was going on? Why was she suddenly back in her previous position, well not the exact same position obviously, but one close enough to it that she felt quite at home? There came no sudden answers or revelations, only the familiar rattle and clatter of the vehicle and horses came in reply, but for some reason this did not perplex her in the least, rather she seemed to know she’d know what she must, when she must, and until then, she need worry about nothing. With a mystified smile at her easy acceptance of this enigma, she allowed herself to relax again into the cushions and idly let her mind wander whither it would, over all that had been and what might yet be.

At last the coach and four drew to a stop and the lady’s door swung wide, but the retainers were as bland faced and silent as they ought to be, none betrayed to his mistress that he was anything other than a perfectly ordinary servant about nothing but his unexceptionable duty. With no clues to be had from that quarter, she swept out of the carriage and into the main foyer of the palace, a venue she graced every year for the Queen’s Ball, which seemed to be exactly what was happening on this very night. She cast her mind back, what seemed eons after recent experience, to life before everything fell apart, and assuming it was still the same year, who could tell after such happenings?, then it was the eve of the very day she had been cast adrift, for she had returned home after her morning visit, intent on changing for the Ball to be held that very evening.

But perhaps it was years later, or even earlier, but glancing quickly at her gloves and gown, she could only assume from the design that she was either remarkably out of fashion or it was very likely the same day, and since nothing remarkable had yet occurred upon this most uncanny of forays, she had to assume the latter. But then there was a way to at least discover her name and position, and that without asking anyone! She entered the ballroom, unescorted, which might be very bad form indeed, unless...yes, there it was, they announced a Lady Pumpernickel, a young dowager lately of a certain distant city, perfect! Now she could mix with the elite company of her former acquaintance without the encumbrance of a husband or chaperone, though the name was rather vexing, certainly quite proper and traditional sounding, but also a tad ridiculous.

She smiled in spite of herself, did not the nobility pride themselves on such things, the more ridiculous the better? With a long suffering sigh, she allowed herself to be swept away by the sporadically milling crowds like a dying fish caught in a swirling current, and like that moribund fish, if she could once again be forgiven the ghastly piscine metaphor, she drew all manner of attention to herself, all as ravenously interested as the aquatic predators and scavengers usually drawn to such a hapless creature. She smiled inwardly while outwardly maintaining an all too bland expression, for here supposedly was money, youth, and power, all a strong draw to the eligible beaus and their representatives scattered about the grand hall.

She wondered at their sudden interest in a complete stranger, musing upon the stark contrast with how they would react had they known her true, or rather former, position in their society. Or likely even more dramatic, their reaction to her new status as one of those Things the walls were meant to keep out. She knew nothing of such things, and was strangely content to learn as she was able, miracle indeed! But she understood, somehow, that, as the men from the forest had hinted, if such Things had a wish or need to enter the city or infiltrate Society, the Walls were no hindrance at all, and apparently neither was time or physical appearance; what an intriguing world she had entered, suddenly she was rather glad she had not read much or widely, as it would only mean more disinformation she would have to shed, negate, or overcome in order to even begin to comprehend the Truth.

So it was she danced and talked and laughed the whole night through with an excited bevy of potential suitors or their representatives, and though she knew nothing of her current position or mission, she need not speak of actual Facts, but rather the bland and tedious banalities, thought the right and proper province of the fair sex, were all that was required of her and these she could wield with all the finesse of a master swordsman with his blade. She knew Nothing, but Nothing was all she was expected to know, thus Fashion and Weather and recent societal happenings were all she had need to discuss and she did so with abandon, never having had so much fun discussing Nothing in her short and tedious life, for at last she knew how much she did not know and strangely she did not quail at the lack, for she knew she would know what she must when she must, and until then, she could be quite content in her ignorance, quite out of her former character but oddly natural in her new position.

As the night gave way grudgingly to dawn, she found herself out in the Royal Gardens quite alone, save for a few weary stars that had not yet found their daily repose, but suddenly a voice shattered the otherwise idyllic scene, quite a lovely Ball, think you not?

Certainly, said Lady Pumpernickel, turning to face a quietly amused female voice just behind her. I do not believe I have had the pleasure? said she, a bit put out that the silly, giggling creature had not had the decency to introduce herself, or better yet, find someone proper to do it for her.

Oh, yes, blushed the insipid girl, fanning herself a little too desperately in the chill morning air, Miss Anastasia Bellaire. You must forgive me, I have just found myself affianced to one of Society’s greatest men; it has quite put all other thoughts out of my head, including proper etiquette. She then went on to extol her betrothed’s expansive fortune, great name, and rugged good looks, simpered over the sudden dismissal of his unfortunate previous lady, and her great good luck in the matter, altogether wholly pleased with herself and her fate.

How sudden he bounced back from such a setback! said Lady Pumpernickel, trying to keep all hint of astonishment out of her reply.

It isn’t as if he hasn’t had many years to plot and plan for just such an eventuality, retorted the prim young thing, if the former lady couldn’t get the job done in the first few years, it wasn’t likely she would succeed in the ensuing years either. A pity he’s wasted all that time, but he could do naught else with the Standards breathing down his neck, we are to be married next week in fact, no sense wasting any more time, you understand.

Quite, agreed the disgusted Lady Pumpernickel, wondering how much her former husband truly had adored her, if he was already shopping around for a new bride when it was obvious his current lady was lacking. A sudden thought occurred to the appalled lady, distracting her from her former distress, for though disgusted at their behavior, it in nowise hurt her personally any more, though she felt it certainly ought, another strange side effect of her mysterious office, but the girl was no foreign dowager, able to move about with impunity, she must have a chaperone of some sort, be it mother or elderly lady companion or lady’s maid, she could not be so lost to propriety to forget that as she had a proper introduction. But glancing about, My Lady Pumpernickel failed to discover such a personage, unless of course she had a fondness for skulking behind topiaries or hiding in a hedgerow.

My Lord’s new Lady smiled impetuously at the dowager’s sudden concern, my maid is passed out in a chair in the ballroom, she can’t handle the late hour or the heat, poor thing. As it was just you and I left of all the guests, I thought there nothing improper in a little independent fraternizing. What say you milady?

It is not what I think but what the Standards say, rebuked Dowager Pumpernickel to her extreme disgust and surprise, sounding all too much like a right and proper dowager and society matron, albeit one twenty years her senior addressing a lady her own current age; what a difference a night made!

And her companion seemed to agree, laughing uproariously, my Lady indeed! We are of an age, me thinks, but you sound like a gouty old widow thrice your age addressing a mere scamp of a girl upon the night of her first Ball!

Perhaps, said My Lady, but it is not my opinion that matters, but rather that of your affianced Lord.

We aren’t married yet, snorted the impertinent girl.

And unlikely to be if such behavior persists, cautioned The Pumpernickel.

How dreadful! protested the girl, And here I thought you might be game for a little adventure, being in possession of both liberty and means as you are, I rather envy you! But here I find you just another matronly prig!

Mmph, grunted the Pumpernickeled Lady, it is your reputation to squander, if you so wish, I was merely giving you a little friendly advice; it’s what we dowagers are wont to do, regardless of age. She glanced about, as if making sure they were utterly alone, I’m not as thoroughly pleased with the Standards as my position seems to require, please do not mistake me or my intentions.

As you wish, of course, said the girl, still not convinced but hopeful she had been mistaken. We could do much together, me thinks, said she, at last broaching the subject that had made her interrupt the morning’s otherwise pleasant solitude, how would you like to be my companion and chaperone? I could introduce you properly to the local Society and you could satisfy the Standards concerning proper companionship for an unwed lady.

Agreed, said she of the Pumpernickel, knowing somehow, that her agreement was somehow vital to whatever it was she was supposed to be doing. The banal creature was all smiles and eager exclamations at this while her matronly companion could only shake her head at such youthful exuberance.

Further discourse was happily prevented as a giant snort and something resembling a horrified squawk sounded from the adjacent ballroom, but it could be neither, as both were certainly forbidden under the Standards, thus it must certainly be something quite different, what the ladies knew not, but it most certainly wasn’t what one might at first be led to assume. After the mysterious noise, Moppet, Miss Bellaire’s maid, made her way, we shall not say frantically, as that also is a repulsive and non-Standardish phrase, with a quicker step than the situation might otherwise call for, into the gardens only to find her charge chatting with a lady of means. The horror that glinted through her pretty eyes was quickly buried under an assumed humility and blandness that could fool only the trifling Anastasia, Iris thought a lioness might more easily don a facade of meekness rather than this feisty creature posing as a lady’s maid.

Came the perfectly Standard query, forgive me miss, I did not mean to be tardy. What has transpired in my absence? Anastasia then went on to introduce her companion and their wondrous plan, but while the servant might have been listening, she certainly was not gazing upon her mistress with the bland intensity required by the Standards, rather she seemed to be studying Lady Pumpernickel as if she were determining just where and how to slice this particularly annoying loaf. As Miss Bellaire blathered on, the ersatz dowager studied the impertinent servant with equal aplomb; were those pretty little ears slightly pointed under all that marvelous hair? Strange, but no stranger than the rest of the happenings of late, but certainly something to remember.

As Anastasia tapered off, more out of need for breath than for lack of inane things to say, Moppet intervened to spare them all the dread fate of being talked to death, but miss, your wedding is not a week away! What would his lordship say? Would you wish to imperil your future thus?

You sound like Aunt Mildred! squeaked the girl in distress, Why do you think I wish for a little fun before our vows solemnize me into the utter dullness of a societal tomb? His lordship need not know!

Yes miss, said the servant quite properly but giving Iris such a venomous glare that she might well have been poisoned on the spot, had the girl fangs to match her eyes.

Of course I shall be staying with you until the wedding, continued Anastasia as if they had not been interrupted, I couldn’t countenance another night with my drear Aunt Mildred.

Don’t you mean dear? asked the dowager.

I meant what I said, smiled the girl sourly, and I’ve a mind to send her harridan of a maid packing as well! She’s a spy and a tattletale and more bossy than even my horrid aunt, dreadful creatures both of them. Said she in a whisper heard by an early rising gardener on the far side of the enclosure, it’s almost as bad as living amongst a horde of Things.

Said Iris in growing interest, and know you much of Things?

Certainly not, laughed the superfluous girl, but the mere idea is enough to give one’s imagination fits.

I suppose you should send your girl off to inform your aunt and fetch your things? said the lady in high hopes of escaping the garden before they overstayed their welcome and the Queen had no recourse but to officially install them as gardeners.

Righto! said the girl in a very unladylike fashion, Off with you Moppet.

But where is your companion staying miss, asked the furious maid, though as calm and unruffled upon the surface as a pond on a windless day.

Everyone knows that dear, said Madam Iris cheekily, just ask around and I’m sure you’ll find my address eventually. Thus spake she, for she had no idea herself where her quarters were, or even if she had any, but assuming she had a coach and servants, she must also be in possession of an address, whatever it be. With a parting nod for the now glowering servant, angry beyond all control, Iris took the girl’s hand and led her back through the ballroom, out into the foyer, and into her waiting carriage.

The girl eyed the upholstery with a keen eye and nodded to herself, convinced she had at least inveigled her way into a fashionable household. Iris rolled her eyes, covertly, so as not to upset the Standards, and called to her driver, home please. And off they went. There was little said during the interminable ride as Miss Anastasia dozed and Iris contemplated what had been and what might yet be, but this did not keep her from glancing out the window, if only to keep from accidentally meeting the girl’s eyes and condemning herself to more idle prattle. She tried not to jolt in shock, not only was it non-Standard but it might also look suspicious, for she saw a dragon perched jauntily atop a certain house as they rattled by though no one else seemed to pay the spectacle the least interest, as if they were well used to the sight or could not see the phenomenal creature. At another juncture, she was quite sure what everyone else took for a placid old carthorse, blindingly white with age, was actually a unicorn.

Now proper ladies were not allowed to study history or politics or philosophy or Things, but fairy tales were considered quite proper, being utterly silly and fictitious, much like Miss Anastasia and most young ladies, there could be no harm in them whatsoever. So it was that Iris could identify these strange and wonderful creatures, wondering again if they had always been there and only now could she see them. Which must be the case, as no one was stopping to gape or running about with torches and pitchforks, and even as sheltered as her life had been, she was fairly certain dragons were not a common sight in this particular town. So if they had always been there, what were they up to? And then there was the maid and her curious ears, was she some strain of elf or pixie? Iris glanced at her dozing companion speculatively, mouth agape and snoring at her leisure, the Standards forgotten, what could the little imp want with such a specimen? Most intriguing! She settled back in her own seat eagerly anticipating what was to come, whatever it might be.

The coach pulled up at one of the most expensive and stylish domiciles in the entire city, thought Miss Iris to herself, ‘nothing like keeping a low profile!’ Smiling jauntily, something only a dowager would dare, she leapt from the carriage, awakening her new charge with the clatter.

Oh! said the girl in awe, climbing out of the equipage, How marvelous! If I knew you were this rich, madam, I’d forego the wedding and simply move in with you.

Then you might come to feel for me as you do for your poor aunt, replied Iris calmly.

Quite, said the girl.

As they settled themselves in the parlor for tea, a ritual both could perform in their sleep, even in a strange house as mistress of servants she’d never met, Iris could still be a proper hostess. It must be great fun being a dowager, mused the girl, glancing around eagerly and imagining the possibilities.

I’m so new at it I can hardly venture an opinion, grinned Iris quite truthfully, but the Standards are certainly less harsh in their censure and restrictions for one of my persuasion.

Maybe I’ll be so lucky? wished the girl wistfully.

Iris shuddered, wondering whither her sense lay, if indeed she possessed any, for the death of a husband was certainly not something to be wished for, was it, at least by decent folk? She was fairly certain the Standards were strangely silent on that particular point. Changing the subject to something less grim, she asked, you have been staying with your aunt?

Yes, said the girl, adding more sugar to her tea, my Great Aunt, in fact.

Your family does not reside in the city? asked Dowager Pumpernickel with all the solemnity befitting such a ridiculous name.

I have no other family to speak of, said the girl, adding even more sugar to her already gelatinous tea, I was only a child at the time, when Things happened.

Things? asked Iris, curious as even Miss Anastasia Bellaire could desire.

Yes, Things, said the girl in a whisper heard by a maid in the attic.

How scandalous! said the shocked, but intrigued dowager.

Quite, agreed the girl.

Said the lady with a pensive frown, but yet you are engaged?

It is quite strange, giggled the insipid little thing, at least by the Standards, but after his last experience, perhaps he thought to try something completely different?

An only child from a family of means with a scandalous history? mused Miss Iris, Very different from his former choice. Do you know anything more of the matter? Of what happened to your family?

No, said the girl in disappointment, for it would be quite the story to tell, "all I know is that Things beset my entire family: mother, father, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, you name it, only Great Aunt Mildred and I survived, mostly because I was staying with her in town at the time while everyone else had gone to Uncle Oliver’s estate to celebrate his superior pumpkin harvest. Aunt Mildred never did like poor Uncle Oliver and never would deign to even feign excitement over his various agricultural achievements, something to do with stealing credit for