"They won't notice that we're gone."

It was Mac that said it, as the two of them embraced on the edge of his pool. His pool. While he couldn't change the weather, he could use his power to move the earth and the waters, to change and wear down and smooth rock, divert a creek, make a perfect reservoir only a ten minute walk from his cottage.

And she was right. They wouldn't notice.

"Where are we going?" Jon asked, amused, running a hand over Mac's spine.

"Back to the cabin," she said decisively. "It's your cabin, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. How did you know?"

Mac laughed. "Took me too long to notice. No bugs."

"I keep my little bubble nuisance-free."

"So we never escaped?" She sounded disappointed.

"Your plan was brilliant. I didn't make you do that."

The two of them started to walk back down the trail. "When did you wake up?"

"The moment you opened the door," he explained. "The cabin and I are connected. I knew instantly that someone was trespassing."

She sighed. "Of course you did."

They walked hand-in-hand where they could, where the trees and bushes would allow.

"It was a lovely gift," Mac said.

"Hm?"

"The escape. It was exactly what I wanted. It might as well have been my birthday. My fantasy was to get away, to keep my friends safe, and you gave it to me. And in a weird way... I appreciate it. I appreciate that even though we were never free, you let me have the chance to make a difference."

Jon smiled. "Your note was great, by the way. Thank you. I may frame it."

"Common courtesy."

"Still. Now I have your phone number. It's been a while since a pretty girl gave me her phone number."

The two of them laughed. Mac squeezed his hand. "I want answers."

"I'll need questions."

"Alright, let's start with, 'who are you?'"

"Jon Tucker, like I said."

"And who is that?"

"A former miner," he explained. "Left school and home, took a job out here just after the war. Liked it out here, so—"

"Back up a step. 'After the war'?"

"I was too young to fight in it. Tried to enlist."

"You're going to have to clarify."

"First world war," Jon said.

"So you're—"

"Over a century old, yes. While I was off shift one day I found this spot, and—"

"Hold on, you look maybe my age, though?"

"Magic is a wonderful thing, Mac." They had arrived at the cabin. Jon opened the door for his guest. "I found this spot, went down to the shore, and dove in. I'd had a little much to drink, didn't realize I'd got myself in trouble."

Mac slipped her sandals off at the door. "This is a bit much, even after the past couple days."

"Well, it's the answer you wanted..." He closed the door behind them. "There are fae folk in these woods. I was rescued by one. Their laws say, or at least said at the time, that any faerie who touches a human must remain with them for twenty years, so I found myself with a beautiful, magical companion. We built this cottage. I could have dragged her back to the big city, but I decided to stay here with her. And in exchange, she taught me how to perform what magic I could, how to attune myself to the land and to a space, what words to say to manipulate the world around me."

Mac pressed herself against him and kissed him again, sending a thrill through him. He kissed back, holding her ass as he did so and earning a noise of approval.

"So where's your companion now?" she asked, when they stopped to breathe.

"Like I said, twenty years. She went back to her own people in September 1939 and I've been here ever since."

"Looking for her?"

He shook his head. "I knew the terms of the arrangement. She didn't want to be tied to me, but couldn't bear to see me drown. I did my best to make her sentence pleasant—but to an immortal, what's a couple decades?" He sat on the edge of the pull-out bed. "Getting deliveries here is a bit of a pain, but otherwise, I couldn't really ask for a better life. I go in to town about once a month to stock up, and otherwise I practice my magic, and keep to myself. Enjoying the simple life."

"You almost make it sound appealing," Mac said, sitting beside him and entwining her fingers with his.

"'Almost'? I have to work on my mind control game."

"Heh. Yeah, you do. It almost feels like I still have free will."

"Isn't that what you want, Mac? To be free from me?"

"Honestly, Jon?" Something in her voice made him take notice. "Honestly, I'm not sure that I do."

That wasn't the answer he was expecting. Certainly she'd been a perplexingly enthusiastic and yet resistant participant in his games.

"Caught you off guard with that, did I?"

"A bit, yeah."

She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Almost feels like I still have free will."

He smiled. "So who are you, Kennedy MacAllistair?"

She flushed a bit at his question. "No one calls me 'Kennedy.' Not even my parents. I've been 'Mac' since I was twelve years old."

"I'm going to, though."

She swallowed. She looked nervous. "A-alright."

"So. Who is Kennedy MacAllistair?"

"That's just it. I... really don't know. I'm doing well enough, but I still feel like I'm not where I should be, and I don't know that where I'm going is going to get me there, either. Nothing's simple, nothing's easy. This trip was supposed to be, and..."

"And I showed up."

"And you showed up. And... And I could see what someone could do with your... your power. You know the saying, right? 'Absolute power corrupts absolutely'? You could ask us if we walk in our sleep, and then spend the whole time—fuck me, yesterday I was a sorceress ready to turn my friends to stone or enslave them for your benefit. Red thought she was in a VR camping simulation. You made Kaz into an human-shaped golden retriever and you made us all believe it. There's no reason that the four of us aren't total slaves with no memory of our pasts, except that it's you who could make us that and you don't." She sighed. "And the fact that you don't has me all fucked up like you wouldn't believe."

Jon pursed his lips, thinking. "Would you like to see what that would be like?"

"I... might? Just to experience the contrast. Just to know what it would be if you were truly evil and not... not just you."

"Good?"

She laughed, and it wasn't kind. "You're not good, Jon. You're just not pure evil."

"I can live with that." He looked at her. "Do you really want to experience that? Being nothing more than a slave to my every whim?

She took a deep breath and stood up. "Yeah, Jon, I do. I want you to do your literal worst. I want you to show me what I'm scared of, and maybe after..." she swallowed. "If there is an after, maybe after tell me why you don't do that."

He reached out with his senses, felt the deep roots of the rock and the familiar song of the breeze. "The words aren't the same here as they are on the island."

Kennedy nodded. "I'll listen to anything you say."

The first. "The wind is loud in the trees today."

"Hm? Yeah, it is, I suppose." She seemed confused by the statement, almost as if she didn't realize what was about to happen.

The second. "Where do you think the wind comes from?"

She blinked. He could see her already-conditioned body relaxing, preparing for rest. "Uh... atmospheric pressure changes, I think? S-something like—"

The third. "I stand firm on this earth."

Kennedy's laughter was already dazed, almost drunk-sounding. "But you're sitting!"

The fourth. "Do you stand with me?"

The laughter stopped. She weaved back and forth on her feet, and he had to resist the urge to pull her forward and suck on her breasts. "I... hope I... hope I don't... um..."

The final. "Still in the wind."

There was no hesitation, not like when he asked her for the first time if she walked in her sleep. No resistance, not this time. "Still like the trees," she said, her eyes closing slowly, then reopening to stare right through him.

A hundred years of practice had taught him not to rush, but it took nearly all his considerable willpower not to pull her down onto the bed and fuck her enchanted form until neither of them could stand another moment. Instead, he stood and tilted her head up to meet his eyes. "We have much to discuss, Kennedy."

"Yes," she slurred, the hint of a smile crossing her face.