"Try to recall,"

I prompted.  "Think of a time you successfully helped someone.  Don't worry about how small or trivial or insignificant it seems.  Just tell me about a time you helped."

"Welll..." Vernier murmured after thinking for a few minutes.  "I did give somebody directions a few days ago.  But that's nothing."

"Tut-tut-tut!" I tutted sternly.  "I said not to worry about how small.  Concentrate on the fact that you did someone a good turn.  They might still be lost were it not for you.  Now think of another."

"Well, I let Rebecca stay with me since the salon closed."

"Knowing that I was sleeping in your dead brother's bed makes it even more special," Rebecca added from across the clearing.

"Now you're on a roll!" I encouraged.  "You saved this innocent lass from having to go back to Bunkirk and marry a rabbit twice her age, or stay friendless and alone in Percysthorpe where she would have to turn to a shameful life of shadow-puppetry.  You did well.  Think of another one."

"Oh!"  Vernier exclaimed as a sudden recollection dawned on her.  "One time, several years ago, I saved a mel who was choking on his dinner at the Percysthorpe pub."

"No way!" Rebecca exclaimed.  "Are you serious?  That was probably Dark Dave the highwayman!  For years he terrorized the north country, robbing and murdering.  They hung him last summer, and his final words from the gallows were about how he regretted not dying the night he choked on his dinner in Percysthorpe.  The experience caused him to reassess his life, and immediately afterward he turned to crime!"

"Oh no!" Vernier groaned.  "You see?  All of my good deeds turn out wrong!"

"Nonsense," I snapped.  "The odds are astronomically against it being the same person.  I'm sure a lot of people have choked at that pub.  You need to concentrate on the positive.  Your genuine desire to help is what makes you a good and beautiful person.  Everybody experiences tragedies and setbacks, but only miserable people dwell on them."  I turned toward Rebecca and demanded:  "How do you know this wild tale about Dark Dave anyway?  It sounds far-fetched."

"I follow all the true-crime journals," she replied smugly.  "Ohhh wait, does being Seelie mean I won't be allowed to do that anymore?"

"You can still read that tawdry stuff," I replied hastily, not wanting to deter her from the Seelie path.  "But you shouldn't derive salacious delight from it."

"DID SOMEBODY SAY SALACIOUS DELIGHT??" Burnside yelled as she grabbed me from behind and twined her arms around me.  "Oh my honey, my Dark Lord, I done reassembled that corny outfit you liked ... well, most of it.  Bein' in tatters just makes it more forlorn!  Let's you an' me waller in misery together an' recite decadent poetry from the Sartorean era!"

"Two aphids he falleth for it," one of the Ixies called out.

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