Leanansidhe snorted with amusement. "Just remember, my door is always open if you want to come back." She waved her cigarette at Grimalkin, sitting on the other side of the table. "Grim, darling, you know the way, right?"

She glances at Grim.

Grimalkin yawned widely and stretched. Curling his tail around himself, he regarded the Exile Queen without blinking and twitched an ear. "I believe you and I still have a wager to settle," he purred. "One that you lost, if you remember."

"You are a horrid creature, Grimalkin." Leanansidhe sighed and puffed a smoke-cat into the air, then sent a smoke-hound after it. "It seems I am destined to lose bargains today. Very well, cat, you can have your bloody favor. And may you choke on it when you try to call it in."

Grimalkin purred and seemed to smile. "This way," he told them, waving his tail as he stood. "We will have to go back through the cellar, but the trod is not far. Just be wary when we get there--Leanansidhe failed to mention that this particular spot is infested with bogles."

"What about Goodfellow?" Ash said. "Should he know where were going, or are we going to leave him behind?"

She follows Grim.

"All right, then."

Back through the basement they went, Grimalkin in the lead, down another maze of torchlit hallways to an old wooden door hanging crookedly from its hinges. Sunlight streamed in through the cracks, and birdsong trilled somewhere beyond the door.

She looks around as they follow Grim.

Once it was open they found themselves in a dense forest glen, broad-leafed trees surrounding them on every side and a babbling stream cutting through the clearing. Sunlight dappled the forest floor, and a pair of spotted deer raised their heads to watch them, curious and unafraid.

The door creaked shut behind them. Ash took in the forest surroundings with one smooth, practiced gaze, and turned to Grimalkin. "There are several trows watching us from the bushes. Are they going to be a problem?"

Trows, apparently, were squat, ugly fey who lived underground, but apart from the deer, they appeared to be alone. Grimalkin yawned and scratched behind an ear.

"Leanansidhes groundskeepers," he said offhandedly. "Nothing to worry about. If you hear feet moving around the cabin at night, it is probably them. Or the brownies."

She stares back at the deer, eyes tracing over their features curiously.

They were just regular deer.

"This way." Tail up, Grimalkin trotted across the clearing, hopped the stream, and disappeared midjump.

One last glance at the deer before she followed.