Leif scanned the land hawkishly, ensuring its safety. The glen was as vacant as it had been the day before when Ruenen had first seen it. Leif turned back to the portal and gestured to his twin.

Raife took Thora’s arm and escorted her through, tossing her heavy bag over his shoulder. Aresti and Kadiatu went next, their eyes widening, mouths falling open, as they felt the magic surrounding them.

On the other side of the portal, Keshel held Marai’s gaze before he stepped inside. A twinge of jealousy wormed its way around in Ruenen’s stomach when he recognized the emotion in Keshel. Marai didn’t respond to it, except stare back with those blazing eyes.

Lastly, Marai entered, and didn’t once glance back at the cavern behind her. Her face remained inscrutable as she passed through the portal and came out the other side next to Keshel. The portal closed and shrunk back into nothing.

“Grass,” shrieked Kadiatu, falling to her knees and raking her fingers through the brittle plant. She held up her fingers to her nose and inhaled. It was such a strange reaction that Ruenen found himself chuckling. She dashed to an oak tree and traced her fingers across the rough bark, craning her neck up to the sky as two thrushes flew overhead.

“She’s never seen any of this before,” Raife whispered to Ruenen. “In fact, I can’t remember the last time I saw a forest, either.”

“Something is wrong with this land,” Keshel said as his eyes grazed across the grim dun of the highlands and snarled trees of thicket.

“Rayghast’s magic,” Marai said. “He’s sucking life from Nevandia, killing nature here.”

“That’s a powerful gift, to cause this much damage,” said Keshel with a shiver. “I sense a darkness, something other.”

Dark magic. The shadow creatures. Ruenen’s skin prickled at the sensation of eyes following them; that something lingered behind the trees, waiting to pounce.

Despite the lackluster sight, the fae gazed around with wonder, taking in the barren trees, the sloping, sepia valleys, the sludgy Nydian River, utterly mesmerized by the world they’d missed.

“Put your head coverings on,” Thora said, wrapping a kerchief around her head to hide her pointed ears, then adjusted Raife’s wide-brimmed hat.

The others also put on their various hats and scarves, except for Kadiatu, who had rounded, human-shaped ears like Marai. In fact, if Ruenen hadn’t already known she had fae blood, Kadiatu would have entirely passed for human.

Once Marai assessed that everyone appeared “human enough,” Ruenen led the way down the glen’s slanting hill into the barren valley, where the rocky dirt road dropped them at the Kellesar bridge. The fae stayed close together, shoulder to shoulder, hands at their weapons. They sniffed the air, craned their necks at all angles, stared at the cows, pigs, sheep, and their herders, the cottages along the way. It was all so new to them, as if they were babes opening their eyes for the first time.

Ruenen tried to relax his breathing, hoping the faeries didn’t notice how he kept wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers. Here he was, approaching this kingdom for the second time, with a group of part-fae in tow. Thora sucked in a breath as they stepped onto the moonstone and granite bridge spanning the Nydian River.

“It’s enormous,” Kadiatu gasped, mouth dropping open as she drank in the sight of such a massive man-made structure as the outer Kellesaran wall.

Kellesar had fortified itself more overnight. The number of guards on the bridge doubled, and Ruenen spotted the archers high up on the stone parapets. They aimed their arrows straight at the clump of advancing visitors. Were they walking into a trap?

This could all go horribly wrong.

Thora seized up, spotting all those weapons pointed at them.

Marai hissed in her ear. “Keep walking.”

“Are they going to kill us?” Thora’s voice trembled; her whole body shook.

Marai gave her a shove, and they crossed the bridge to stand at the closed iron gate. Dozens of golden-clad soldiers leered at them suspiciously through the bars.

They know. Dread curled in Ruenen’s stomach. The soldiers know who stands at their gate.

The fae stiffened and clustered closer together as more armed guards appeared on the other side. If Ruenen wasn’t so attuned to the rest of his party, he may never have felt the slight shift in the air. Something, magic, settled into place around him and the fae.

“Keshel,” Marai whispered to him.

A shield. Keshel had created one of his invisible barriers around the group. He wasn’t taking any chances with the safety of his people.

The soldiers, it seemed, hadn’t noticed the magical shield. They kept their stoic, defensive stances. Ruenen had to make the first move.

He cleared his throat, and plastered on a smile. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Perhaps you might open the gate to let us in?” No one moved. Ruenen scowled as annoyance bit at his heels. “Your prince gave you a command.”

“Don’t know who you are,” said a soldier, baring his teeth. “You could be a prince or a Tacornian spy, for all we know. Or a group of faeries.”

Soldiers raised their weapons higher. Ruenen heard the twanging stretch of bow strings from above on the wall.

“This isn’t safe,” Raife murmured, “we should leave.”

The fae began a slow retreat backwards across the bridge, not taking their eyes off the soldiers. Thora and Kadiatu vibrated with fear.

His plan disintegrating, Ruenen couldn’t bring himself to move.

No! I won’t let this fail.

He planted his feet and tilted his chin high with all the regality he could muster. “I demand to speak with Commander Avilyard at once.”

Ruenen spotted the young guard from the other day amongst the fierce faces of men. The young guard gave Ruenen a brief smile and disappeared from view, back to where the office was located. He returned shortly with Commander Avilyard in tow.

The commander assessed the situation quickly, glancing from his men to Ruenen’s entourage.

“I’m surprised to see you back so soon, Master Ruenen. And with guests.” The commander’s deep voice betrayed no judgment, trepidation, or curiosity.

“Please take us to the Witenagemot, Commander Avilyard. Lord Steward Holfast is expecting all of us,” Ruenen said.

Avilyard nodded, signaling for his men to stand down.

“But Commander—” a soldier began.

“I have orders. No one will be harmed, by order of the Steward,” Avilyard said.

The men backed away, bows lowered, swords sheathed, but most kept their expressions shrouded with distrust and disgust. Avilyard then gestured to someone out of Ruenen’s sight. The gate began to rise in loud, screeching sounds.

“Stay calm. Act normal,” Marai hissed to the fae once the grate was drawn.

Avilyard called over six guards, the young one among them. “If you’ll all follow me, please.”

A sea of curious citizens parted as Avilyard, his golden guards, and Ruenen’s group passed through Kellesar. Unlike the guards, normal Kellesarans were unaware that faeries were in their city. Ruenen bet all the coin he didn’t have in his pockets that rumors had been flying since the moment he’d arrived. Did they know he was the lost prince? Whispers echoed on the wind, but Ruenen couldn’t make out any specific words.

The fae remained tense as they walked, avoiding eye contact with the humans, hiding their unusually vibrant eyes and pointed ears. The only one looking up was Leif, who strode forward with confidence, a grimace on his face. It wasn’t exactly the first impression Ruenen had hoped for, but Leif had every right to feel resentment. These people, no matter how poor, had more than Leif ever had.

Thank Lirr, they made it through the city unscathed. Inside the castle and away from the crowds, the fae’s heads tilted up. Thora and Kadiatu elicited gasps, taking in the windows and vaulted ceilings. Raife’s jaw dropped as he spun around, examining the frescoes. Almost as if he were holding his curiosity in check, Keshel took in the details with mild interest.

Marai’s face remained stony as Avilyard led them all into the throne room. Guards opened the heavy oak doors to reveal Holfast, Fenir, and Vorae standing at the foot of the dais, dressed again in their black robes. As Ruenen and his company filed into the room, Fenir and Vorae took noticeable steps backwards, but Holfast remained as impassive as he had before.

Triple the number of guards from yesterday were stationed inside the chamber, all with their weaponry raised. Heavy doors closed behind Ruenen and the fae with a booming thud; the sound echoing off the marble in a jarring, foreboding way.