Through a break in the trees, Susanna spied her destination: a large log house, fallen into disrepair and overgrown with ivy and moss. She paused for a moment to watch and listen; behind the droning cicadas in the forest, an faint, otherworldly chime that seemed to come from every direction at once. She rested her hand on the shortsword at her side. The unreflective cold iron blade wasn't what she was used to fighting with, but the fey feared such weapons, and it never hurt to have a backup.

 

Susanna was a mage by training, a monster hunter by vocation. The village of Erranham had put out a call for assistance: the local fey had recently changed from mischievous to malicious, playing "pranks" like killing pets and spoiling badly-needed food. Pixies, the mayor had said, but that was provincial ignorance; there were over three dozen common types of fey, each with their own bewildering rules and habits. No matter the kind, Susanna had been paid to stop the fey that made their home in this old house from attacking Erranham's citizens. A kinder, more merciful monster hunter might have tried to strike a bargain or negotiate, but Susanna wasn't particularly talkative. Whatever the breed, fey were agile and willful, so Susanna had prepared an array of spells that would attack their weak point. Poisons and transformations would find easy purchase on their small, fragile bodies.

 

The faeries came out at dusk, the villagers said, so Susanna had chosen noon to make her approach on their nest. As she approached, the woodland noises seemed to fade in the background, making the ethereal chime seem clearer. Thick blankets covered the windows and gaps where rot and decay had worn away the logs. Seeing no opportunity for a stealthy entrance, Susanna cautiously approached the front door. No doubt it would be thoroughly trapped. Standing well back, Susanna unleashed a modest spell of opening at the door. A lock clicked and the door swung inside; as it did so, a net swung wildly up through the air and a strange, glittering powder exploded from the doorframe. Susanna was safely away from those hazards, but she also heard a madcap giggling fill the air. Whoever was inside would surely be ready for her. Well, she was ready for them too. As the powder drifted harmlessly to the floor, Susanna stepped towards the entrance, hand on her cold iron sword and readying her spells.

 

As she came up to the open door, Susanna saw that it opened into a single large room that spanned most of the building. Perhaps fifteen faeries were visible. They were gullevei, forest brownies. They were as tall as a toddler and possessed tricky magic that sometimes turned treacherous, especially near the turn of the seasons. She had indeed gotten the drop on them--they seemed to be waking up from beds of old sacks and hay. Susanna spoke her first spell, and a yellow, toxic fog filled the back of the room. The brownies that were caught in it clumsily tried to scramble away, coughing and gagging. The giggling sound in the air changed to a pained screeching of pain and rage. One near the door leaped at her in a frenzy, landing a painful bite on her hand before she swatted it away. She drew her sword and landed a sound blow against another one leaping at her, sending it flying across the room with the dry burning sound of cold iron on faerie flesh. It slumped against the wall, motionless. The screeching of rage, coming not from any one brownie but seemingly from the house itself, redoubled in intensity.

 

Five or six of the gullevei had made it out of the toxic cloud. Giving Susanna's fearsome iron sword a wide berth, they began weaving their own magics. Susanna, a practiced battle mage, was faster. She cast a polymorph spell, and in a puff of smoke one of the brownies became a tiny chipmunk. It squealed and darted away through a gap in the wall. Underneath the screeching sound, another sound--a cacophony of indistinguishable whispers--began to build. Susanna loosed another spell at a cute female brownie she spied in the corner. The faerie froze in its tracks and, within seconds, changed into a tiny marble statue. Susanna grinned. She knew a handful of nobles with unusual tastes and few scruples that would pay a tidy sum for attractive petrified creatures, and the stone brownie would be both exotic and easy enough to carry.

 

The brownies seemed to be drawing closer, so Susanna brandished her sword again, swinging it wide. She grazed one, which bounded away with a yelp. As she warded the brownies off, Susanna vaguely noticed that the screeching was becoming quieter, the whispers louder. She jumped back, polymorphing another brownie. This one became a tree frog and hopped up into the house's ruined kitchen. Three still faced off against her, eyes flaring with otherworldly anger, with several more slowly recovering their breath in the back of the room.

 

Suddenly one of the background whispers coalesced into words Susanna could clearly hear. "Why don't you cast one of those transformation spells on yourself?" None of the fey were speaking out loud, but the voice rung out in her head. "Faerie tricks," she muttered to herself, clenching her sword, but the brownies noted with satisfaction that she needed to pause and clear her head to shake off the suggestion. She lunged at another brownie with her deadly shortsword, but the creature managed to dodge, and gave a laugh as she stumbled. "Go on, give it a try." All other sounds went silent for a moment for Susanna, then she came to her senses again. She glanced nervously at the door, but one of the creatures had fallen in behind her. "It actually feels really good to be transformed, you should try it." She stopped, focusing on her breath, in and out, separating the intrusive thoughts from her own.

 

Susanna breathed in and out, in and out, closing her eyes to focus only on that, ignoring her sense of hearing.

 

"Go on, transform yourself."

 

And really, why not, she thought; she used the spells all the time, she didn't think of herself as a cruel woman...

 

"Find out how it feels."

 

She had never been transformed and, indeed, wondered how it felt. It felt good, right? That's what the stories said... maybe like being tied up by that comely half-orc...

 

"Just cast the spell, you do this all the time, it's so easy."

 

Susanna stood up straight and reached into her component pouch. Using the practiced, confident tone of a mage, she spoke the words of her most powerful transmutation, a petrification spell, willing the magic toward herself.


"Just like that, right, you're going to make a nice statue, hold still."


Her spellcraft-honed instincts felt the spell taking hold of her body and spirit, but she made no attempt to fight or shrug it off. It settled in, and immediately she felt her flesh grow cold.


"You deserve to be stone, you hurt us, at least you'll be our trophy."


In an instant she knew something was wrong, she knew everything was wrong, but it was too late to even change her facial expression, much less scream.


"Still... forever..." the whispering voices faded out.


In the next instant Susanna was transformed completely into marble, standing silently in the faerie's home. Her fearful blade was still, her spells extinguished.

 

For the rest of the day, the surviving faeries tended to their wounded and rested. As dusk approached, they took the time to jeer and taunt the statue of Susanna, the enormous memorial of the battle they had fought and won. Chattering to one another in high and malevolent voices, they made plans for sundown. They planned for the vengeance they would wreak on Erranham, now that the village's would-be protector was reduced to a helpless stone statue.