I stared from one to the other again, those laughing happy faces in the picture and the very still, very dead ones on the ground. Their skin had begun to change color already, turning that bluish-purple cast of the dead.
"He, or she, had to dress them," I pointed out. "No matter how many illustrations you see with these little blousy dresses and loincloth things, most demi-fey outside of faerie don't dress like this. I've seen them in three-piece suits and formal evening wear."
"You're sure they didn't wear the clothes here?" she asked.
I shook my head. "They wouldn't have matched perfectly without planning it this way."
"We were thinking he lured them down here with a promise of an acting part, a short film," she said.
I thought about it, then shrugged. "Maybe, but they'd have come to the circle anyway."
"Why?"
"The demi-fey, the small winged fey, have a particular fondness for natural circles."
"Explain."
"The stories only tell humans not to step into a ring of toadstools, or a ring of actual dancing fey, but it can be any natural circle. Flowers, stones, hills, or trees, like this circle. They come to dance in the circle."
"So they came down here to dance and he brought the clothes?" She frowned at me.
"You think that it works better if he lured them down here to film them," I said.
"Yes."
"Either that or he watched them," I said, "so he knew they came down here on certain nights to dance."
"That would mean he or she was stalking them," Lucy said.