They followed the three faeries into the woods for hours. Squirrels were zigzagging on barks, deer poking in and out and dashing away at the sight of them, birds chirping and flapping their wings. As they ambled on, a distant roar of a lion ruffled the feathers of the humans, making them huddle more closely to the other races.

Night crept in with its full glory, thickened by the field of trees. The white dots in the sky were seen seldom as a chill draft bent and swayed the branches. Clythia had given her companions an order not to wield magic; they would rather stumble in the dark than waste an ounce of Garin. But thankfully, they were all salvaged from darkness by the lamps lit by the humans and the werewolves’ ignited torches.

“Are we going to go all the way to the palace on foot?” Kay complained. “The least you could do was bring us horses.”

A grunt of agreement sizzled through the travelers.

The human king was wearing a circlet on his head, and above his usual leather, he had draped a white fur cloak.

The faeries looked at one another, then the one on the right, who was shorter and leaner than the two, spoke. “Why do you need horses when you have legs?”

Wait, What?

“What’s your name, boy?” Kay asked, glowering at him.

“Rave, King Kay.” Rave gave him a grin that didn’t reach his eyes, identical to the other two faeries. They seemed to find their exhaustion amusing and nonsensical.

“Well, Rave, why don’t you carry us one by one to the palace until no one is left?” Kay lifted his lamp, the yellow light poured on his face, disclosing a furious expression and a pink nose chilled by the breeze. “Would you be tired then?”

“No,” Rave replied. “Faeries don’t get tired from walking.”

“But we do,” Clythia pointed out.

Rave’s emerald eyes fixed on her. “I am truly sorry for your lack of basic ability. We weren’t aware.”

Son of a bitch.

Rave’s eyes darted to his fellow faeries then back to them, gaze bouncing from Kay, Clythia, Morven, and her. “Horses roam free with zebras in Nadir,” he swung his arm widely. “You are free to chase them down, tame, and gallop them if you want. But we don’t provide that service, although we can without breaking a sweat.”

Grumbles reverberated through the travelers, mumbling their dissatisfaction and spitting out curses as they trudged forward.

It had been a while since Clythia had taken a decent long walk. If the destination was far, then Eventuation was the option. However, to Eventuate, she had to know Modyr’s palace, and it could also be blocked from such intrusion like her own seat. But above all, she wasn’t tempted to wield magic one more time. Not even as her bones were screaming for rest.

“Glythia,” she reeled her head to face the Prime. “Why don’t you tell Modyr we are here, that we have arrived, and also that he is doing a terrible job at receiving guests.”

Glythia cocked his chin at her. “How am I going to do that?”

“By astral projecting or whatnot,” she waved a hand at him. “This is the best time to intrude on someone’s privacy.”

Glythia frowned at her for a few moments. “Fine.”

“Wait, he can do that?” Morven asked, brows kicking up.

“Yes, and he has a knack for picking unseemly times,” Clythia gave the vampire a look mirroring his shock, remembering how it would have turned out if Glythia hadn’t interrupted when she was in the middle of scolding her son.

“Why was it unseemly?” Kay said with a teasing tone. “Were you rather intimately occupied?”

Casarda giggled, but Clythia’s stare froze her in place.

“I can’t astral project while we are in motion,” Glythia said, tucking his legs beneath him and closing his eyes. “So rest until then.”

The werewolf didn’t have to finish his sentence; by the time he said ‘then,’ a few people had already plunked down, leaning on the barks of trees or sprawling like pigs in the dirt.

Clythia was in no way ready to ruin her pristine white dress, hence she pulled out a sheet from her ring and sat on it. Casarda, Vina, and Afia did the same, along with those who weren’t too eager to take comfort in the dirt.

“You know it’s weird that faerie legs don’t get tired,” Afia whispered to her.

“It is,” Clythia responded. She had some theories on why that was but she was intrigued by what Afia would think. “But why?”

“From what I read about them, the only thing they can’t do, except for elemental magic, is the inability to lie. More like can’t do but—” Afia shrugged.

“And they can tell if you are lying too,” Clythia remarked. “But that was something they developed over time. Two hundred thousand years is quite a time for a species to evolve.”

“Indeed,” Afia scrunched her face thoughtfully. “Maybe their legs have evolved to walk long distances without huffing and puffing like us too.”

"Or maybe they made a deal with a sorcerer to grant them this ability and it has passed from generation to generation." Clythia pointed.

As the two women tossed theories back and forth, Clythia noted the disdain painted on the faces of Vina and Casarda. Nonetheless, they didn’t dare to voice their opinion on the causality Afia was displaying. Even Clythia’s guards and servants were stealing glances at them, burning Afia with a gaze brimming with judgment. But the servant paid them no attention.

“There is so much of the world we don’t know,” Afia said wistfully. “And now that the Shadow is here, the world has become not only a place of wonder but also a place of horror.”

“Very much so.” It was Morven who answered. Clythia hadn’t noticed he was nearby, and now he was sitting at the unoccupied side of Afia.

Afia averted her eyes from the vampire, and even in darkness, Clythia could swear that a flush was climbing up her neck and settling on her cheeks.

“Where is your dog?” Clythia asked Morven, lifting her chin and narrowing an eye at him.

“In my ship,” Morven answered in a casual tone, though he didn’t meet her stare, rather finding a bird chirping in its nest interesting.

“You two are getting dangerously close,” Clythia flicked a finger at the two. “Afia, is Mimi in your ring?”

Morven’s lip kicked up. “You know my pet’s name?”

“Unfortunately,” Clythia gave him a dry grin, then returned her stare to the squirming Afia, who wasn’t denying or confirming her suspicions.

“Oh, please don’t give Afia a hard time because of this,” Morven said in frustration, Clythia’s stare zapped to him. “She was just trying to help poor Mimi. I can’t possibly leave my puppy in the ship.”

“Then carry it yourself,” she gawked at him. “My servant isn’t your servant.”

The vampire was taken aback; he glanced at Afia apologetically and back to her. “That is not what I was doing. I thought it would be better to carry Mimi in a more efficient space, and Afia assured me the puppy would be fine in the ring because there is a lot of space in there.”

“I know there is,” Clythia snapped and cut Afia a look. “Is this true?”

“Yes, my queen,” Afia blurted. “But I only did this to help Mimi, not Morven.”

“King Morven,” Vina chimed in with an accusative tone. “You are dangerously comfortable with each other indeed.”

Afia bit her lip. The vampire darted his eyes to the rather negligible action, and some kind of emotion flickered on his pale features before it was gone in a blink.

Wait, when did this all happen?

Clythia pointed at the auburn metal hugging Afia’s middle finger. “I know you hate our custom, and you like causing or finding yourself in trouble. But go find it somewhere else, Morven,” her glance shifted to Afia, who was looking everywhere but her slicing gaze. “I am not cruel to animals, nor do I harbor fondness; I will let you keep his dog.”

Afia’s face lit up, though there was a sprinkle of wariness displayed on her face. “You will allow me that?”

“I am not going to repeat myself,” Clythia said in a calm tone.

“But my queen,” Vina’s voice came.

“Shut it,” Clythia cut in, hurling the Lady of Hypercas a sharp stare.

“But if you decide to turn your back on DavinSaw,” Clythia turned to face Afia, meeting her honey eyes. “If you pursue the feelings you are developing for the vampire-”

“I don’t-” Afia started, but Clythia shushed her, raising her palm.

“-I like you a lot, but I won’t hesitate to cut your head off. If you think I’m bluffing, ask the Lady of Spies what I did to her mother.” Clythia grinned; with every inch of her lips stretching, terror was climbing up Afia’s features, freezing her in place. Then she nodded vigorously.

Clythia eyed Morven, who was shaking his head but didn’t dare question her in front of her subjects.

“Witch Queen,” Glythia leapt to his feet, cutting through the tension.

She rose alongside her companions. “Modyr has lowered the protective ward around his palace. You can Eventuate us.”

“We have been fighting until nothing remained in us,” she said with a curt tone. “I am not going to risk my companions succumbing to madness by wielding more than we can handle.”

“Nothing will happen if the most powerful of you lot Eventuate us,” King Kay said, gaze flicking from her to Casarda and Vina.

Clythia shot the Lady of Spies a spiteful look.

“I swear on Ilyana’s grave, I have no hand in this knowledge,” Casarda lifted both hands.

Rave snorted.

“What’s so funny?” Casarda snapped, but Rave began whistling as if he hadn’t heard a thing.

“You are lying,” Clythia said to the Lady of Spies. That was the only plausible explanation for the faerie’s subtle reaction. He wouldn’t either confirm it was the truth or a lie because his loyalty lies only with his king but it was enough cue for her to be suspicious.

“I am not lying, my queen,” Casarda said, staring at her like a deer caught in a trap. “I haven’t told this to King Kay; I swear it on Ilyana’s grave.”

“Stop being arrogant, will you?” The human king cut Clythia an annoyed stare. “I know this because I also have knowledge of how the Shadow’s magic works.”

Morven was right; she was getting on the far side of the leaders, and if they were all going to trek to the most dangerous continent in Zyvern soon, she shouldn’t add more reasons for them not to cooperate with her when they face the unknown. Hence, despite it being difficult not to hurl a snide back at him, she calmed herself, peeling her eyes away from the human king.

“I don’t know Modyr’s palace to Eventuate,” Clythia said to the Prime.

“Come here,” Glythia waved his hand in a hither motion; she eyed him warily. “I will let you see it in your mind. I hope you can take care of the rest,” he added in assurance.

She approached him, and he rested his palms on her temples. The familiar brimstone scent climbed up her nostrils, and her eyes snapped closed on their own accord.

Then she was soaring like a bird through the forest until it gave way to a large meadow and a city with strange spires and outlandish towers. They passed in a whirl, the city lights whizzing by like shooting stars. A straightforward golden road from the city to the castle was laid. The castle was stark with bold colors, flowers snaking around the towers, and thorns gleaming on the battlements with the vines of different-hued blooms.

Before she could take the time to note the ominous shapes of the architectures, the scent of sulphur waded her senses and then she was wheeling back out the city, the meadow, the forest, her surrounding a smudge of light, black, green and brown until she was rammed back in her flesh.

Her eyes popped open, and she inhaled as if it was her last moment on Zyvern. “It doesn’t get better the second time,” she blurted out, feeling nauseous.

A dozen pairs of eyes were peering at her. “We can Eventuate,” she heard more than one sigh of relief. “But, payments first.”

She laid out her palm, her stare meeting the Prime who was frowning at her; he hesitated a moment. “Of course,” he mumbled, fingers searching through his pouch, and he set pearls on her palm. “For me and my companions.”

The human king set four pearls; the vampire, a pearl.

“Two pearls,” Clythia frowned at Morven, “You and your dog.”

“My dog is in the ring,” he pointed at Afia’s ring, disbelief splashed on his face, but Clythia couldn’t care less—she wiggled her fingers in an impatient demand. Grumbling, he set one more pearl.

Clythia handed the pearls to Casarda, who encased them in her ring. They formed a chain; anyone who was unfortunate enough to be at the side of another race was acting a whole lot of awkward about where to place their hands, eventually settling on holding a piece of garment as though it was smeared in waste.

“You can’t go with us,” Kay said to Rave, who was waltzing into the ring they were forming. “You have legs, remember.”

“We’re ordered by the king to bring you to him,” Rave glared down at the human.

“Well, you are not,” Clythia’s tone deviated to mockery; Rave’s focus shifted to her. “I am the one obeying the king’s orders.”

Rave hesitated; albeit being furious, he stepped back, joining the faeries who were slicing down Clythia and Kay with a hateful stare.

“Everyone, hold on tight,” Clythia warned. “I don’t care if you’re left behind because you can’t get a grip of the person beside you.”

They Diseventuated at the gate of the palace, startling some faeries on the sidewalk as they popped out of thin air. Some froze in their tracks, gawking at the intruders, while others scurried away like rats.

The enormous iron gate was lit with orbs perched on the arc, beams of pink, yellow, and green pouring down on them. Where the trails of the orbs finished, an array of red roses began, encircling the gate. Such a bizarre combination—a foreboding gate and a touch of vanity. It made it seem almost whimsical, a gate of an eccentric artist rather than a king of a continent.

“Why didn’t you Eventuate us inside the castle?” Morven asked. “Do we have to wait another day for the door to open too?”

“I am not going to take any chances. Do you have any idea what would happen to you if you Diseventuated where there is a ward?” Clythia turned to Morven. “You would feel each and every moment of your bones crushing, your flesh squashing until death claimed you.”

The vampire blanched.

“You could have trusted me; I’ve already told you the ward was down,” Glythia said.

But before she could come up with a response, a creak emitted from the gate, and the gigantic gate slowly swung open.