The Ballad of Adler Young, Canto 2.5

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>Adler, compose yourself. You're safe telling your story here. This is a hidden safe house. The only way the Kringle will learn of your location is if one of us tells him. *meaningful looks all across the room*
Yuletide Revelers: You know its way too early for the Yuletide celebrations but fuck it
Tree Guards: Oddly enough let these revelers dress you up, you love the fairy lights and ornamentation

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Do you think it's safe here in the cedar chest? Will he look for me under these old blankets and coats? You won't tell him where I am, will you? I can't count on my Shrub Knights to protect me - they are too easily seduced with pretty ornaments and tinsel.

>Adler: Some time passes and you go back to reading the books trying to unlock the secrets of time slipping.

Now then, what was I talking about? Oh yes, time passed. You want to know what happened to my hairdresser cult? Well, what COULD happen? It was a gang of hairdressers, for Fuma's sake. They talked up their Lord Ramble to whoever would listen, but nobody paid much attention. The pesky rabbits continued living in their village on the edge of the woods and making life difficult for anyone who wanted to come see me. Vernier brought me food occasionally, and Lysander brought me information.

I ended up paying that monkey much more than he was worth. He told me that the Duchess had set up operations in Vulpsylvania, a province of far-away Fuchsland. At this point in the story, she didn't pose much of a threat to me. Lysander was also able to tell me that there had indeed been a Zandar Skönk in Skeorlesburg about 150 years ago, which would have been around the right time, but unfortunately the entire village had burned down as a result of a witch trial gone wrong.

Stupid lowfolk.

Er, present company excepted of course. Don't tell you-know-who where I am, okay?

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I spent a lot of time reading books from the scry-tower library, gradually gaining understanding of the theories of Temporal Mechanics that governed the relationship between worlds, and the points of intersection where Gates had been constructed in the ancient past. These studies were often interrupted. If it wasn't Lysander or Vernier, then it was the trees relaying a message from Ash Marten.

"Ash Marten says Yo Adler, when R U gonna scry me," they rustled one day, asking the same question for the hundredth time.

"Tell him, as soon as I master the Tertiary Chronokleptic Fold," I replied. "I have to go back to Faerie to scry, and I don't want to do that until I can control the time slippage."

I read a bit further into the chapter I was working on, and the reply came back, "Ash Marten says Lame excuse dood, U tryin 2 avoid me?"

"Tell him he could come to the stone circle and talk to me in person any time he wants to," I sneered. "Nothing's stopping him. Or is it?"

I had almost finished the chapter when the trees rustled, "Ash Marten says Touche. But srsly, scry me K?"

"You know what?" I sighed. "Fine. When I finish this chapter, I'll be ready to give it a try. Where should I look for him?"

I was closing the book when the trees relayed some directions to where Ash would be waiting.

I carefully composed some appropriate Gramarye and walked the theoretically correct number of paces backward and forward outside the Gate, then went in and up the stairs. The scrying chamber was dusty. I reminded myself to clean it later, and promptly entered my Scryspace.

>Adler: You see a mildly portly, older vulpitanian gentleman. He gives you the friendliest smile you've ever seen. Everything about him says "Jolly". However, the glint in his eyes makes you uneasy. It's the the glint a cat gets when it's cornered a mouse. Is that- did he drop the accent?
>Adler: "Are you Uncle Ash?"
>Ash: "I am."
>Adler: He is also decidedly standing outside the stone circle.

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I followed the directions to a meadow just beyond the edge of the woods, where a portly fox was standing. He turned and looked right at me as my scrying-awareness approached him.

"Ah, Adler Young, I presume," he chuckled throatily.

"Are you 'Uncle' Ash Marten?" I asked, perplexed. "I was expecting ... well, a marten."

"That's a long story," Ash chortled. "But an amusing one. Now that you've seen me and know precisely where I am, of course you can Apport me directly to your tower and we may talk in person."