Something Quite Peculiar - Chapter 40

Chapter Forty: Cupid

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Jack reached forward immediately to steady Rowan, who had landed awkwardly on one of her heels and went spiraling forward. He slipped, still not used to the shoes, and his staff was clattering on the ground from being dropped, but they had each at least managed not to actually fall.

"See, I said I'd catch you," Jack said as they slowly regained their balance, Jack leaning over to snatch his staff from the ground.

"But who'll catch you?" she laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and smoothing out the skirt of her dress before glancing around in awe.

This was much different than the last time she'd been to the pole. This time, at least, she wasn't here to be informed of any terrible news. She could enjoy the fact that she was in this magical place without that looming over her mind.

There were lights everywhere, candles and floating lanterns. She swore there were even more lights than there had been when she visited before. The floor was covered in glitter and confetti.

Work tables were put away and replaced with refreshment tables. When she walked to the railing and glanced around at the other platforms surrounding the area, she found more of the same.

The pole was buzzing with conversation and laughter. Music was coming from a few levels up, on what she assumed was the platform nearest the globe.

Most importantly however, in the immediate area, there were quite a few beings lurking around. She did her best not to obviously stare at the pair of centaurs that walked by.

"Jack!" Rowan whispered as soon as the centaurs turned the corner and were out of sight. "Jack that just happened."

He laughed. "They're just centaurs."

"Just centaurs?" Rowan said, appalled. "It's a person with a horse body, Jack. Jack."

"That's what a centaur is, yeah," he smiled. "Come on, let's see if we see anyone we know."

She linked arms with him again as he began to walk toward one of the lifts. Bright orbs of light darted toward them as they went, which Jack simply waved away. Rowan watched them fly past, puzzled.

"Fairies," he muttered.

"Why aren't you as excited about this as I am?" Rowan said, watching them fly off as they continued walking. "Fairies, Jack!"

"Because Tooth's Fairies are the only ones that don't cause trouble," Jack said as they stepped onto the lift. Two yetis climbed on as well, followed shortly by the largest groundhog Rowan had ever seen, standing at her height, perhaps a little shorter. He seemed to be having difficulty keeping his balance, as one of the yetis reached forward to steady him as the lift moved. He wore a silly little top hat and a coat.

"Jack!" the Groundhog said, suddenly realizing the boy was there.

"Oh, hello Greg," Jack said hesitantly, clearly uncomfortable.

"Congrats on the promotion!" said Greg, slurring slightly. It was becoming increasingly obvious just how drunk this creature was.

"Thank you," Jack said.

"Can you do me a favor and make sure I see my shadow this time around? You want a longer winter, I'm exhausted-"

"That's, uh, really not my call to make, you might want to talk to Mother Nature," Jack said, sliding an arm around Rowan's shoulder as he stepped off the lift.

"Oh, you know how hard it is to talk to Emily!" Greg said, mid-hiccup as the yetis departed the lift as well.

"That's why I never do!" Jack called back, still walking away. He leaned in closer to Rowan, mumbling, "He's kind of terrible to deal with when he's sober so…"

"I didn't realize there was one specific groundhog," Rowan replied, glancing back at the creature, who had found a nice place near the lift to sit, presumably until the world stopped spinning so rapidly. "Do you suppose Mother Nature will be here?"

"I don't know. I'm sure she was invited but she doesn't seem like the party type," Jack said as they continued along, carefully weaving in-between several groups of creatures, some of which looked mostly human, and others that were very clearly not. They stopped in the globe room, where Rowan found that the music was coming from, as she had assumed earlier. A string quartet stood atop a platform, composed entirely of yetis.

"Jack, there's a yeti playing a cello, you have to be impressed by this," Rowan said, pointing to the band as they stepped to the side near a refreshment table and mostly out of the way.

"Okay, okay, that's impressive," he smiled, eyes going back and forth between Rowan's delighted expression and back to the talented yetis. As his eyes wandered back to the platform, he stopped short to laugh. "Is that North?"

Sure enough, the jolly man, wearing a fur-lined black and red suit, was laughing and waltzing with a very strange looking old woman.

"Looks like it," Rowan said. "Who do you suppose he's dancing with?"

"Baba Yaga, I think," Jack said. He couldn't help but laugh at the way Rowan's face lit up, yet again.

"Baba Yaga? This is so great, this must be what other people feel like around celebrities. We're watching Santa Claus dance with Baba Yaga to a string quartet of Yetis, this is insanity."

Rowan could barely contain her excitement and all at once decided that she wasn't really going to try. Magic had become a dangerous, uncontrollable, forbidding thing in the past few weeks. In the past few minutes, it once again filled her very being with wonder and joy.

She had missed this.

Jack opened his mouth to speak, likely to tease about how excited she was. Before he could utter a word, however, a large pair of wings crashed into him, nearly knocking him over. It seemed the person they were attached to had been standing nearby and turned suddenly. The winged boy in question immediately turned around and set a hand to Jack's shoulder to steady him.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry! This happens more than I'd like to admit," the boy said before immediately stopping short, watching Jack in surprise and addressing him again, "Jack Frost?"

Jack eyed the boy in confusion before cocking a brow, finally seeming to recognize him. "Cupid?"

"Hey! Haven't seen you in, what, two-hundred-something years?"

"Yeah, you, uh, got taller," Jack observed. Rowan watched the newcomer as well, trying to at least downplay her excitement at encountering yet another being she'd seen so many paintings of and read so much about. She didn't want to make him feel awkward, after all.

Cupid appeared to be no older than perhaps seventeen, with neatly cut dark hair. He had dimples and a widow's peak that only further emphasized the slight heart-shape to his face. His suit was entirely black except for the waistcoat and tie, which were a sultry red, meticulously embroidered.

He was certainly good-looking.

"I know! I passed you up, look at that!" Cupid said with a grin, standing a bit straighter as though to emphasize that he was a good few inches taller than Jack.

"Yeah, well, puberty will do that sometimes," Jack taunted.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up," Cupid said with a slight roll of the eye. "Oh, and uh, sorry for kind of… knocking you out of the sky last time we saw each other."

"It's fine, remember when you slipped on the ice and almost broke your neck a few years later?"

"That was you?"

"Of course it was me, you knocked me out of the sky."

"You were in the way!"

"You were a brat!"

"You still are a brat!"

Rowan cleared her throat in an attempt to remind the immortal boys before her that she was still there. Jack turned back to Rowan, his smile sheepish. Cupid smiled as well, his polite.

Even that soft, polite smile flashed the boy's dimples.

"Hello," Rowan said.

"Cupid, this is Rowan," Jack said, gesturing to the girl. "Rowan, Cupid. The God of Slowly-Aging."

"You must be the Mortal Muse, it's nice to meet you," Cupid said. When Rowan reached out her hand to shake his, she was taken by surprise when he took her hand gently in his and pressed his lips to her fingers. She was left giggling bashfully as he released her hand.

"It's nice to meet you, too," she said.

"But not too nice," Jack said, eying Rowan's hand that she had yet to set back to her side. Rowan laughed nervously in response, finally setting her hand down.

"Rowan! So glad you got here all right," came Erato's voice, the Muse walking over with glass of champagne in hand. Her blonde hair was let down and curled, adorned with a collection of roses as usual.

Her outfit was flashy, sequined and topped off with a feather boa, draped over her arms. She slid an arm around Rowan's shoulders in a brief hug before releasing her, passing her glass from one gloved hand to the other and throwing her arm around Cupid's shoulder. She planted a large kiss on the side of his forehead. The boy cringed slightly, embarrassed.

"I see you've met my son," she said proudly.

"Your son?" Rowan repeated, surprised as she glanced between Erato and Cupid. They had similar bone structure, certainly, and their eyes were the same peculiar shade of fuchsia. Erato's hairline also boasted a widow's peak.

The Muse of Love Poetry, the God of Love. It made sense.

"Yes, he's got his own holiday now, you know," Erato said, releasing Cupid if only to tuck a lose strand of hair away from his face as he sighed in irritation.

"Valentine's Day?" Rowan asked.

"It's not even my holiday, they've just made me a terrible mascot for it," Cupid said with a sigh.

"It's his holiday," Erato said in hushed tones to Rowan.

"I can still hear you, Mother, I'm right here," the dark-haired boy said.

"The myth has Aphrodite as his mother," Rowan said, partially as a statement and partially as a question.

"I've been split into quite a few beings in myth," Erato explained, seeming almost gleeful. "I'm Helen of Troy, too."

"And about ten different fertility goddesses," Cupid sighed.

"Things that happen when your son only ages a year every century so you end up pregnant for seventy-five years," Erato said. Rowan cringed at the idea, Erato noticed and laughed. "Tell me about it!"

"It has been nearly two millennia and she has shown no sign of ever letting me forget that," Cupid said. "It's not like that was my decision."

"Oh I thought he was never going to be born, I was so over being pregnant! And then, then you should have seen how panicked we all were when I went into labor, Calliope, Clio, and I, we had no idea what to do," Erato said. Jack chuckled. If it was over the idea of Calliope not knowing what to do or the growing discomfort in Cupid's face, Rowan wasn't sure.

Both were amusing.

"Ma, no one wants to hear the story of when I was born," Cupid winced.

"I do!" Rowan protested immediately.

"You're out of luck, she wants to know everything about all of this. When we first properly met she interviewed me for hours," Jack said, clearly amused.

"Please don't," Cupid said, his cheeks turning red. Erato sighed deeply, turning to Rowan with a small frown.

"It's such a good story, though," Erato pouted.

"I love stories," Rowan said.

"Understatement of the century. And I've been around for the past century so I feel as though I can say that with a certain amount of authority," Jack smiled.

"Fine, fine, some other time. You behave yourself, though, or I'll get together a whole group and tell it," Erato said, turning her attention back to her son. "Have you spoken to Calliope and Sanderson yet?"

"No, I haven't even seen them yet," Cupid said.

"Well you make sure you do, don't be rude," said Erato. After a beat, she added, "And stand up straight."

Cupid sighed deeply, straightening his stance some. "Good boy," the Muse said. Something caught her eye and she exclaimed, "Anubus!" before walking away to meet the mythical being in question.

"Why is it so important you talk to Calliope and Sandy?" Jack asked as soon as Erato left.

"They're my godparents," Cupid said.

"So you have a Guardian for a guardian," Rowan said.

"Essentially," he nodded. "Not that I need a guardian but they've always been good to me. Anyway, I'm really sorry about my mom."

"Don't be, she was embarrassing you, not us," Jack smirked.

"Not just that, I mean, I know she gave you that dream a while ago," Cupid said, gesturing to Rowan and causing her eyes to widen and heat to rush to her cheeks. Any and all thought processes came to an immediate halt on her part. "And that had to be so awkward for both of you. She just, she thinks she's helping and then she just makes things worse."

"What dream?" Jack asked, looking from Cupid and back to Rowan, who appeared mortified.

"Oh, no, you didn't know about it?" Cupid said, wincing slightly.

"She did that?" Rowan managed to say.

"You didn't know that?" said Cupid, eyes widening as he realized what he had just revealed. He swore softly under his breath.

"Did Erato give you a naughty dream?" Jack asked, focusing his attention on Rowan, who was still watching Cupid, terrified and embarrassed.

"Oh, I just made things worse. I am turning into my mother; this is a terrible revelation," Cupid mumbled to himself.

"H-How did you even know about that?" Rowan stuttered.

"I just… know things about love and sex lives, what people desire, almost like it sends off some kind of signal. It's part of how I know which people might make a good match," Cupid said sheepishly. "And with other mythical beings, including the Mortal Muse, it's particularly strong. I know more than I ever wanted or needed to."

"So she did give you a naughty dream," Jack said, very clearly amused as Rowan turned even redder.

"Oh, look, it's the Easter Bunny, I should go talk to him! Over there. Not here. Before I make things worse," Cupid said with a nervous smile before practically running off to where Bunny was, cornered by the Groundhog.

Rowan watched the winged boy rush off before groaning in frustration, her cheeks still a brilliant shade of red. She had wanted nothing more than for Jack to never find out that dream had ever happened because of the taunting that was certain to follow. To learn that Erato had planted those thoughts there made everything all the more embarrassing.

Not to mention, if Erato knew, and Cupid knew… who else knew about silly little fantasy?

"So was it about me?" Jack asked, nudging her gently with his elbow. Rowan simply groaned again. "I'll take that as a yes. Was I any good? What did we do?"

"I don't want to talk about this," she sighed.

"We should be able to talk about this! How else will I live up to the expectations that your dream set for me?"

"Oh my God," Rowan said.

"Did you say that a lot in the dream?"

"Jack!"

"Bet there was quite a few exclamations of that, too."

"We never got to any sex," Rowan said, her voice at a whisper. "I woke up before we got that far, okay?"

"Well then why are you so embarrassed?" he smiled.

"Because this was before we were even together and it was clearly headed that way and- I don't want to talk about this right here and right now," Rowan said.

"Fine, fine, fine," said Jack, leaning forward to whisper in her ear. "You can tell me all about it later."

"How do you feel about finding some liquor now?" she asked with a sigh.

"You never answered me at the art show, are you a happy drunk or a sad drunk?" Jack asked.

"I suppose if I get drunk you'll find out," Rowan said, reaching past him and grabbing for one of the shot glasses on the table.

"Have you even had alcohol before, Little Miss Nice List?" Jack asked as she took the shot and made a face as it burned down her throat. She set her glass down.

"I lived in the dorms freshman year," Rowan said. "And had a fake ID in high school to get into my ex-boyfriend's shows, so… yes."

"And yet I got a lump of coal for Christmas," Jack said.

"Sounds like Santa just has it out for you," Rowan shrugged. Jack smiled. Something behind Rowan caught his eye and he straightened his stance some. Rowan turned to see who or what it was.

She was tall, and that alone made her intimidating. Her face was long and her skin was dark. Rowan supposed she must be Middle Eastern. Her eyes were light green and piercing. Her dark brown curls were adorned with a jeweled band.

She smiled.

"Hello, Rowan, it's so nice to finally meet you," she said, gently resting a hand on either one of Rowan's shoulders. "My name is Polyhymnia, I'm the Muse of sacred song."

"Oh! Hello, it's nice to meet you too," Rowan said, smiling nervously. Oh no, she had just taken a shot of alcohol in front of what was probably the most religious Muse there was.

"Don't be nervous, Sister," Polyhymnia said, her smile reassuring as she released the girl's shoulders. Rowan felt strangely at ease, as though perhaps she didn't have to worry about the Muse judging her. Had Polyhymnia inspired this feeling with her smile alone?

Polyhymnia glanced Jack's way. "And hello to you, too, Jack."

"Poly," he greeted with a nod. He paused. "Can I call you Poly? Or is that just the other Muses? Because your name is kind of a mouthful."

She laughed slightly. "You may call me Poly if that is simpler."

"Poly, then," Jack nodded, grabbing for one of the shot glasses as well. "Want one?"

"Oh, no, thank you," she said. "I don't usually drink, and I daresay my sisters will do plenty tonight to cover me as well."

"Fair enough," Jack said, throwing back the shot.

"Can I ask you something?" Rowan asked the Muse.

"Of course."

"You're the Muse of Hymns… what religion do you practice?"

"I am whatever I need to be," said Polyhymnia. Rowan and Jack exchanged puzzled looks.

"What do you mean?" Jack asked.

"For some, I am an angel or a messenger, for some I'm a ghost, for some I'm a Loa, or a vision, or a strange dream. For some I'm the idea that things will be all right," Polyhymnia said. "I am whatever I need to be to inspire."

"So, you're everything… and nothing," Rowan said, clearly a bit confused.

Polyhymnia simply smiled. "I am whatever I need to be."

"You're being vague on purpose," Jack said. The Muse laughed.

"Perhaps," she said, beginning to walk away from the two. "I hope you both enjoy the ball. Do be careful with Nicholas' vodka, it's very strong."

"We'll keep that in mind," Rowan said.

---

"Bunnymund! I've been looking all over for you, there's a crisis… somewhere else, that needs your attention," Cupid said, approaching the Pooka who looked about ready to strangle the Groundhog.

"Oh, that sounds… that sounds important. Sorry, Greg, but I have to go," Bunny said, failing to sound sorry at all.

"Right! You go right on and do that, friend, I'm going to go say hello to Cupid!" the Groundhog said, beginning to look around. "Where is that little brat?"

Cupid and Bunny exchanged confused glances.

"He went that way," Cupid said, pointing off toward the lift.

"Thank you, sir!" said Greg, saluting Cupid clumsily before stumbling off in that direction.

"He's no good at parties," Cupid said as he and Bunny watched the overgrown rodent go.

"He's barely good outside parties," said Bunny, adjusting the emerald green waistcoat he wore. This, alongside a dress shirt, was the extent to which he felt comfortable dressing up. At least Arachne did nice work. "Thanks for that though, I was trying to get away for about ten minutes."

"Yeah, no problem, he cornered me earlier but he was only sorta buzzed then," Cupid smiled.

"You got taller," Bunny observed, tilting his head slightly as he actually took a chance to really look at the boy.

"I did!" Cupid said, seeming pleased that someone else had noticed.

"Well, it's about time," Bunny said, smirking slightly.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Did you need anything when you came over, or was that just to help me out with good ol' Greg?"

"Oh, I got myself in an awkward conversation with Jack Frost and the Mortal Muse so this was an excuse to leave," Cupid confessed, cringing slightly. Bunny leaned over to look past the boy's wings and saw that, sure enough, Jack and Rowan were over near one of the refreshment tables. They seemed happy enough.

"I was wondering when they were going to show up," Bunny sighed. He returned his attention to Cupid and spoke in hushed tones. "What do you think of those two?"

Cupid cocked a brow. "You've got to be more specific. Do you mean what do I think of them individually? As a unit? Do I think they'll have sex? Do I think either of them would be good at kissing?"

"Let's just assume I want to know absolutely nothing about any of the other Guardians' sex lives," Bunny said, a look of horror coming to his face at the thought of the last few comments Cupid had made.

"You sure? Because I was getting pretty strong signals-"

"I just want to know what you think of them as a couple. I'm worried about the kid, I told him not to get into this with her."

"Because she's mortal?"

"And because they've known each other a couple of weeks. You didn't have anything to do with this, did you?"

Cupid laughed slightly at the implication. "I don't interfere with immortals and their love lives. They always know it's me and they always get angry about it. At least when I drive the mortals to desire or reject someone, it very rarely comes back to me. And then I don't have to deal with them being passive aggressive for five hundred years."

"I always forget you do rejection, too," said Bunny.

"Sometimes those arrows are more fun," Cupid shrugged. "But as far as they go, I mean, there's lust there, certainly, but it's not the only driving force at play, if that's what you're concerned about with how quickly they got together."

"Is he in love with her?"

"They're not quite there yet," Cupid said, glancing back at the couple in question. "But they're heading that way. It's really weird because it's Jack but I've seen stranger things happen."

Bunny sighed. "I was afraid of that, it's just going to make it harder when she dies."

"Honestly, in love or not, her dying is going to mess him up in general at this point," Cupid said.

"I suppose that ship did sail a while ago," said Bunny.

"Well, it's better to have loved and lost than bla, bla, you know the rest," Cupid said.

"Can you really believe that after what happened with North and Yelena?"

"I'd be a pretty terrible God of Love if I didn't."

"Fair enough."

"Getting off that topic, though," said Cupid. "I wanted to talk to you about this situation with the Shadow People and your plan for them-"

"Oh, no," Bunny said immediately, shaking his head. "Your mother doesn't want you involved in that at all."

"But Bunny-" Cupid started.

"Look, you know I'm not a fan of Calliope and the masked mistresses but your mother is one of the Muses I actually sort of get along with, I won't be getting on her bad side."

"But I can-"

"Sorry, Mate, but you won't be getting anything out of me," said the Guardian, patting the winged boy on the shoulder sympathetically. Cupid sighed, frustrated.

"Fine, fine," he said. "Have you seen Toothiana by any chance?"

"She's definitely not going to tell you anything about the Shadow People, she's closer to your mother than I am," Bunny said.

"No, no, not because of that, I just haven't seen her in about four hundred years," Cupid said, shaking his head. Bunny eyed the boy suspiciously. "Really."

"Well, no, I haven't, actually. I'm sure she's around, somewhere."

"I'll keep an eye out," Cupid said, stepping away.

---

"I told you. I told you he'd wear the shoes," Arachne said.

Rowan glanced up from the platter of food she and Jack had been scouting and turned to find the redheaded woman with the extra arms. She wore an elegant black gown with a red midsection. Her hair was straightened and fell just past her shoulders. She'd left her glasses at home.

Rowan was doing her best not to so obviously stare at the woman, but her extra eyes and the level of style she exuded simply by standing there were so distracting.

She stood with a short, curvy, blonde woman, donning a fringed, flapper-inspired dress. The woman sighed dramatically.

"Damn it, Jack, you just lost me a bet," she said.

"What bet?" he said.

"I told Arachne you'd never wear the shoes she made you," the blonde said.

"And I told Thalia that you certainly would," Arachne said. "And so, she bet me."

"So now I have to be her assistant while she weaves star dust into fabric next week. Making tea, fetching supplies," Thalia said with a groan.

"I so look forward to it," Arachne chuckled.

"I can't believe you guys bet on my discomfort- well, yes, actually I can," Jack said with a roll of the eye.

"What were you going to get if you won?" Rowan asked Thalia.

"Oh, she was going to have to follow me around for a day and play a rim shot every time I said something funny and hello! You're the Mortal Muse and I'm super rude, hi!" Thalia said, pulling Rowan into a brief hug. "I'm Thalia, I'm the Muse of Comedy."

"Nice to meet you."

"Oh, so this is the one the fuss is all about," Arachne said, her eight eyes scanning Rowan up and down. Rowan was suddenly very nervous, remembering that this was the woman that made all the lovely designs she'd seen thus far tonight.

"Is it a fuss?" Rowan said nervously.

"Kind of," Thalia said with a shrug.

"I heard you were making your dress," Arachne said casually.

"Well, I altered an existing one," Rowan said, tugging lightly on the skirt of her dress, still nervous.

"I like the color, it matches what you picked for Jack pretty well," Thalia said.

"So it would seem," Arachne said with a shrug. "It seems sturdy."

"Thank you?" Rowan said. Was "sturdy" a good thing?

"It's not a compliment, it's an observation."

"Everything she says is an observation," Jack reminded Rowan.

"She gave me a compliment earlier, but I don't know if it really counts," Thalia said.

"What do you mean?" Arachne said.

"You said I looked lovely in my dress but you made the dress so it's really more a compliment toward your skills as a seamstress, isn't it?" Thalia teased.

"You look lovely regardless of what you're wearing."

"And you make everything I wear." Arachne sighed. Thalia chuckled. "I'm just giving you a hard time, Ara."

"I really dislike you," Arachne said. "Honestly, Lia."

"And I hate you, entirely," Thalia smiled as the band started up with another song. "Oh, I love this song, come on! Nice meeting you, Rowan, and Jack I'll be getting you back for losing this bet for me!"

Thalia took two of Arachne's arms, one of each a left and a right, and dragged her onto the dance floor. For the first time, Arachne seemed incredibly uncomfortable, and entirely unsure of what to do.

Granted, it didn't seem as though Thalia knew what she was doing, dancing-wise, either.

"That was a little exhausting," Rowan commented.

"That's Thalia," Jack said with a small smile.

"Was she the one that asked if you were fertile?"

"Yes."

"I can see that. But now I've only got four more Muses left to meet and I don't think I've been too much of a mess so far," Rowan said.

"You've done very well, from what I can tell. Actually the Muses have been downright pleasant tonight so far," Jack said.

"Yes, but none of them stuck around very long," Rowan pointed out. Perhaps they just hadn't had enough time to be rude or off-putting.

"They're trying not to form attachments," Jack said with a slight shrug, frowning.

"It's just- I don't know, they keep saying I'm part of some Sisterhood or something but I feel like none of them want to actually know me at all," Rowan said. "I think Erato is intrigued by our relationship, if anything."

"She's intrigued by everyone's relationships."

"Very true," Cupid said, re-appearing by their side.

"Look who's back," Jack sighed.

"Can I talk to you?" Cupid asked the boy, ignoring his tone.

"You… are talking to me?" Jack pointed out.

"I mean privately. Elsewhere," Cupid elaborated, using his hands as though gesturing to "elsewhere."

"Did Bunny put you up to this? Because I don't really want to discuss my relationship with anyone else that isn't actually part of it," said Jack. Rowan fidgeted uncomfortably. Jack had mentioned Bunny not exactly being supportive of their decision to begin dating.

Honestly, if her friends knew all the details, she doubted they would be either. If one of her friends were in the position she was in, she couldn't say with certainty she would be.

But as the nights passed, the idea of simply existing without Jack around was becoming harder and harder to imagine.

"No, it's not about that at all, but it's important so can we step outside for a minute here?"

Jack glanced back at Rowan said, "I, uh, don't know, I don't really want to just abandon Rowan-"

"I'll be okay for a little while," Rowan said. She was an adult after all, she could handle herself at a party on her own. It might be a little uncomfortable, not really knowing anyone else, but she was certain Cupid wasn't about to steal her boyfriend for the entire night.

"You're my responsibility, it's still after dark," Jack said.

"But there aren't any Shadow People here, Jack," Rowan said. "You're not my babysitter, go on."

Jack sighed, eyes darting between Rowan and Cupid for a moment before finally saying, "Fine, but be careful, okay? There's some shady creatures here. Don't make a deal with anyone, don't take money from the Leprechaun-"

"Don't eat the gingerbread house, don't trade the cow for magic beans, okay," Rowan said. She smiled softly, hoping to reassure him. She had to be able to make it without Jack for a few minutes.

For her own peace of mind, as well as his.

"This better be good," Jack said, returning his attention to Cupid. Across the dance floor, speaking to a woman in an elaborate, Victorian-inspired dress, was a man with a high collar, carrying a jack-o-lantern.

"The Horseman," Rowan whispered excitedly, leaning over to quickly peck Jack on the cheek before rushing over. The boy simply watched her go, puzzled, before following Cupid outside to the balcony.

As Rowan approached the man, she heard his voice, sounding slightly muffled and echoed, realizing it was coming from within the jack-o-lantern. "… I'm actually a bit happy that Maria couldn't make it," he was saying. "I adore the woman, don't get me wrong, but all the weeping."

"Well, she is the Llorona," said the woman he was speaking to with a slight laugh. Her hair was curled elegantly and featured a grand timepiece. She set a glass of wine to her lips, and Rowan took a deep breath, glad she had at least arrived during a lull in the conversation.

"Um, hello," Rowan said, smiling politely.

"Well, hello," came the voice from within the jack-o-lantern.

"I hope this isn't very strange but I just wanted to tell you, I love your legend. I've got a Headless Horseman doll, actually, looks just like you," Rowan said, hoping she didn't come across as a complete fan girl.

"Oh!" came the voice. It seemed delighted. "Well, thank you, Madam. I don't believe we've met before, I'm quite sorry, I'm not familiar with your legend."

"I don't have one," Rowan said sheepishly. "I'm, uh…. I'm Rowan Sawyer, I'm the, well, Mortal Muse."

She felt silly saying that.

"Are you really?" said the woman, reaching forward and taking Rowan's hand to shake. "Clio, Muse of History."

"Oh! Hello, it's nice to meet you," Rowan said.

"And you," said Clio. "But I must be going, Poppet."

"So soon?" said the Horseman.

"Afraid so, I have to speak with North, I got distracted," said Clio. She offered the other two a small curtsey before walking off.

"I think that was the quickest one of them's gotten away from me yet," Rowan said, unable to help the disappointment in her voice.

"Clio's always in a hurry. It's ironic, really," said the Horseman. "But it's nice to meet you, and I daresay even nicer to know that we finally got a Mortal Muse that's American, judging by your accent. Unless, of course, you're Canadian…"

"I'm American," Rowan smiled. "Is it all right if I ask you some things?"

"I suppose it depends on what you ask, Madam."

"How does this talking thing work for you?" she asked. "Can you see?"

"Magic is a tricky thing, I don't pretend to understand it," the Horseman said, carefully balancing his jack-o-lantern where a head would normally go. "But as long as I have something with a representation of a mouth on my person, I seem to be able to speak just fine. The jack-o-lantern is just tradition. How I'm able to see you, I have no idea, but I can see, otherwise I'd hate to think where I'd lead my poor horse."

"Did you bring your horse?"

"I did, she's resting in North's stables now."

"You're much nicer than I thought you would be, aren't you the spirit of terror?" Rowan asked.

"Horror, actually, and you were nice first," he said. "There's a bit of fun in horror. Terror is more Pitch Black's thing, not that our paths don't cross. He deals with all sorts of fear, I mainly focus on the horror genre and superstition."

"Fascinating," Rowan said.

"And what about you, what do they think you'll be the Muse of if you make the transition?"

"Oh, none of the Muses have really told me what they think, Jack took a guess at it."

"Jack Frost?"

"Yes."

"Tell him to stop making it snow on Halloween, no one wants to trick-or-treat in a blizzard," said the Horseman, clearly bitter.

"I'll uh, make the suggestion," Rowan said with a short nod, remembering that she was attending the ball with one of the least popular spirits.

"What did he think you'd be the Muse of, though?"

"Stories, maybe illustration," Rowan said with a shrug. "I tell a lot of stories."

"About what?"

"Lots of thing. Pirates, recently."

"I love pirate stories, go on," said the Horseman.

"What?" Rowan asked, cocking a brow. Was the Headless Horseman really asking to hear one of her stories? He was an amazing story already! What interest could he possibly have?

"Yaga! Johnny! Over here!" called the Horseman, gesturing for the individuals he called to approach. The woman that had been dancing with North earlier, as well as a barefoot, unkempt man that was very much not dressed for a ball approached. The man reached past Rowan toward the refreshment table, selecting an apple from the bowl.

"This is the Mortal Muse," said the Horseman. A few others nearby crept over, curiously. Rowan shifted uncomfortably beneath everyone's gaze. A crowd was quickly gathering. She didn't know what to do. "She's going to tell us a story about pirates."

The others murmured among themselves and Rowan reached for one of the drinks on the table, quickly throwing this one back as well.

"Are you sure you want to hear it?" she asked weakly, setting the glass down.

"Go on," said the Horseman. She took a deep breath, her eyes scanning the immediate area at all the myths and legends that had approached to listen in.

Rowan took another shot from the table. She was about to tell her silly pirate story to a group that was essentially composed of characters from stories that had stood the test of time. Cringing as the alcohol burned at her throat, she took a deep breath, already feeling her mind begin to fog and remembering Polyhymnia's warning about North's vodka.

She was beginning to worry a bit less. Perhaps she could do this.

"Once there was a pirate," Rowan said. "And he had awful luck."