"Do not go into the wild woods at night."
It was an ancient adage, spoken over candlelight at children's bedsides. It was repeated in desperation as the children got older and wanted to stretch their freedom. It was shouted to caravans as the grown children rode away to work or schools, and it was eventually passed down from the grown children to their own kin. No one seemed to ask why it was unlucky or forbidden to go into the woods at night -- clearly, anyone with a brain would know that it was extremely dangerous. There were creatures in the woods. There were robbers, phantoms, and monsters. Only a fool would try to venture through the shadowy trees after the sun went down.
Unfortunately, Evan Evanovich was incredibly foolish. He was the kind of foolish person that acted first and thought later. He was the kind of foolish person that was brash, loud, charismatic, and more than a little charming. He was also incredibly drunk the night that he wandered into the wild woods. He had been looking for a place to take a piss behind the tavern when he'd noticed the woods looked particularly inviting.
"Lads, why do you suppose they want to keep us away from the woods at night?" he shouted to his comrades, who were in the middle of a rowdy game of darts, and also an impromptu dance battle with some orcs from the next town over. They were all terrifically busy, and so they didn't answer.
"Hm. No good reason I can see," he said, answering his own question as he peered into the darkness. There was nothing quiet about the night, and therefore nothing frightening. In Evan's (particularly addled) mind, there could be no real danger as long as the crickets kept chirping, the laughter kept its riotous rhythm, and the drinks continued flowing. He took a step towards the darkness. Then another. He was about to turn back when he saw the tiniest flicker of warm, ivory light in the distance.
He blinked.
"Lads," he muttered to no one in particular, "I'm about to check this out." He stumbled closer to the light, peering at it, but as soon as he got close enough to touch it, it dodged out of his grip. Then it vanished completely. He stumbled back, sputtering in disbelief. In less than a moment, a second flicker of light shone just a few yards deeper into the woods.
"Aha!" he said, laughing and walking towards it, now fully out of earshot of the tavern. "What are you, you brilliant little thing...?" again, he reached for the light, but it flickered out a moment before he could touch it.
This game continued deeper and deeper into the woods -- Evan following a trail that was unmarked, led only by the warm ivory light that seemed to call to him. He chased it, in turns growing excited and then weary, as it escaped him again and again. Finally, the light went out for the last time, and Evan stumbled, realizing he'd nearly tripped on a root. He looked around. Or rather, he tried to look. Now that the will-o-the-wisp's light was gone, he was swallowed in almost complete darkness.
"Hello?" he called in confusion, hearing a soft sighing. It sounded suspiciously like a young woman, and Evan whirled around. "I'm not trying to interrupt any happy couples tonight," he announced loudly. "I'll just take my leave, then."
The woman's voice giggled and there was a rustling sound in the trees nearby. He blinked in confusion. He had no idea where he was. He felt even more stupid than usual -- which was saying something, as Evan was a very self-aware idiot. He cleared his throat.
"Um, I'm sorry to bother you, madam," he said, stepping in the direction of the giggle, "But would you happen to know the way to the path...? I mean, the path back to, uh, civilization? Or, more accurately, any tavern where I could get another drink... I just, ah -- whoa!" he nearly fell backward as a woman dove from the darkness and tackled him to the ground, covering his mouth with a hand, motioning for him to be silent.
Evan's eyes went wide as he looked at her. She was magnificent: dark-skinned and positively glowing in the moonlight, her braids positioned around an impressive set of white antlers. Then he saw behind her, the white light. He reached for it, and the woman shook her head vehemently, and she patted Evan down. She apparently found what she was looking for -- a half-full set of matches -- and lit one, holding the flame to her lantern. It blazed to life, and the little white light made a horrible shrieking sound, turning blue, and then black, somehow still burning furiously.
"Not this one," she shouted into the darkness.
The little white light shrieked again, turning red and orange and blue again. The strange woman laughed.
"Nice try," she said coldly. "If I want to make a deal, I know where to find you. No. Not this one. This one is mine."
"Um," Evan said. The light blinked at him, and the woman with antlers whirled on him in anger.
"Keep your mouth shut," she hissed. "I'm negotiating for you here."
The white light shrieked a third time, even louder. The sound was ancient -- a scraping, keening shriek that ended in a little huff of discontent.
"Yeah, I mean, I hear you," the woman said loudly, swatting away Evan's hands as he tried to stand. She got even louder, as if for Evan's benefit: "Nah, there are better things to eat in these woods! This one's kind of scrawny. Hah! I know, right? Yeah, well, good luck. Let me know if you're still coming to cards next Thursday, alright?" The shrieking turned plaintive. Then, at last, the white light bobbed away. As it disappeared into the grove, the woman with antlers visibly sagged in relief.
"That was close," she sighed, and stood, holding the lantern in one hand and brushing off her apron with the other.
"Scrawny?" Evan asked as he stood up and pulled himself to full height.
"That was a will-of-the-wisp, you ungrateful prick," the woman snapped, holding her lantern up so that her pretty brown face was washed in lantern light, casting her features into shades of warmth and cool shadow. Her full lips and pointed ears were rosy with blush -- it must have been the adrenaline -- but her eyes were somehow soft as a doe's.
"Scrawny?" Evan repeated, fully miffed at this point. He was really working his way up to a still-somehow-half-drunken tirade. Or, he would have, if the woman didn't interrupt him.
"Here are your matches," she said, chucking them at his face. "That was a will-of-the-wisp. I just saved your life."
"Hardly," Evan replied, "I had the situation under control." He did his best to smooth down his wavy blond hair and shot the antlered woman his most charming smile.
"You were two seconds away from becoming Ickagreg's second breakfast," snapped the woman.
"... the will-of-the-wisp's name is Ickagreg?" he asked, blinking as the realization-- the realization that she may be telling the truth-- dawned on him. "The will-of-the-wisp is a man?"
"Yes. Try to keep up, alright? Let's get you back to that tavern."
"Wait," he said, holding up a hand.
"What now?!" she asked, exasperated.
"How do I know you're not going to just drag me deeper into the forest and eat me?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "You said, 'This one's mine'. How do I know you're not just as evil as Ickagreg?"
The woman snarled and stepped forward, holding the lantern up to both of their faces. Evan backed up, surprised by her boldness, and found himself pressed against the cool bark of a large tree. Cornered. She narrowed her dark eyes and Evan drunkenly found himself observing that she had quite long eyelashes.
"First of all," she said, her voice low and deadly, "Ickagreg does not eat his victims. He lures them back into the bog where his little frat brothers, Ickabob and Ickaderrick, live. They are both too lazy to go through the trouble of killing anyone, and neither of them have real teeth. They just have rows and rows of acidic gums. Imagine, like, the most parasitic deepest deep-sea slugs, waiting for some dummy to stumble into their trap, so that they can stupify you in the bog and then gum you over for two or three days until you finally die of starvation. All you'd be able to hear is them shrieking in their bog language about how your bones are still too crunchy."
"Ah," said Evan, turning a bit green around the gills. "That seems a bit, ah, unpleasant..."
"Secondly," she said, "Ickagreg is not evil. He is usually quite discerning about what he eats: plow horses and lost sheep, kelpies, and sharp-toothed megabats. He probably needs to get his eyes or ears checked because clearly, he was trying a new flavor on the menu."
"Ah," said Evan again.
"The new flavor was you," she snapped. Then, sarcasm dripping from her voice, she said, "A modern dish -- a rare variety of idiot. Maybe if you were lucky he would have roasted you with his bog fires! That would've really brought out the -- mmm -- the real subtle notes of this flavor of stupid."
Evan laughed weakly. "That's funny," he said.
"And lastly," she said, rolling her eyes, now close enough to kiss or spit on him, "I will have you know, you judgmental and entitled city boy, that I am not a will-of-the-wisp. I am a succubus."
Evan felt his eyes widen and a delighted drunken smile light his face, which he immediately sensed was the wrong reaction, judging by the way the woman's eyes flickered with rage fires. He tried to tamp down his excitement by switching to a charming smirk.
"What the hell just happened to your face?" she asked, her rage turning to genuine confusion and perhaps a touch of disgust. She crinkled up her nose as if she'd smelled something rotten. "Are you... are you really drunk enough to think I would spend the night with you?" She backed away from him, her mouth jerking downward in what was now apparently more than a touch of disgust. "Ugh. Okay. Well. I guess they don't teach kids how this works anymore."
"I know how it works!" Evan said, incorrectly assuming she meant his sexual prowess.
He gestured to his pants, his blood singing with alcohol and anticipation. "I know what a succubus is! I know how this works!"
"Oh, my gods, you really are the village idiot," she said, smacking herself in the face in pure exasperation.
"I am not. I am Evan Evanovich, son of Bertram Evanovich... who actually, yeah, my dad was, in fact, the village idiot. But I'm not. I'm an adventurer."
"Sure. Listen. I meant, they don't teach you what a succubus actually does. It is a symbiotic relationship. I am often sought out by guardians and witches and wizards of the forest, who wish to sustain me. They see what I bring to the forest... and to the night... and they know that I am an invaluable asset to this place."
"So... uh..." Evan's hands fell limply to his sides.
"So I don't fuck any random dude who wanders into my woods and needs rescuing," she snarled. "I get to pick and choose who pleases me. It is a privilege. Got it?"
"Oh. Uh. Yeah," Evan said.
"So we can go back to your little tavern, now, city boy," she said dismissively, turning her back and starting to walk away.
"Oh! Yes. Um. I suppose a 'thank you' is in order," Evan said.
"Yeah, I would think so," the woman said.
