They descended on the party and brought stories. From another world. From many worlds, perhaps.<\/p>\n
Timeless tales. A strangeness in the air; as if anything could happen. The opposite of the days when Ryoka had looked up at the sky and seen only smog, seen nothing to do or dream of.<\/p>\n
These folk were<\/em> the times stories had been made of. They had walked among legends and watched the things that defined culture and imagination. And they had been great, greater than you could believe.<\/em><\/p>\n It was such a relief to see them. Even those who did not know who they are knew them.<\/p>\n The keepers of stories. Beings of myth and legend. Immortals of another world.<\/p>\n The fae folk.<\/p>\n Here, in a moment after the eclipse passed. Resplendent in every color, flitting about, grabbing treats or laughing. This was a day of celebration, after all!<\/p>\n The longest day. For a second, the mortal guests just stared, wondering how<\/em> they had suddenly doubled their numbers. Realizing that someone had been there who had not been a moment ago. The fae\u2019s entrance was so natural that it became all the more surprising when you realized it.<\/p>\n Then one of them spoke.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cThe food! And drink! And dance and sights! How glorious! How wonderful! And all for us!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n The speaker was male, cheeks glowing with the same vibrancy as the voice. The listeners stirred\u2014and saw him snatch a caramelized apple and bite into it. He chewed, laughing, and he was both immortal and very mortal. Savoring such a simple action, simple delights.<\/p>\n \u201cDead gods.\u201d<\/p>\n Someone breathed. Tyrion Veltras started. He half-turned. And saw it was Jericha. She, like him, stared. As if waking from a dream into…<\/p>\n Another dream. Only, it was reality. The [Lord] of House Veltras turned, and as he came to his senses, he noticed the warriors.<\/p>\n There were two kinds of guest here. One was the court of the fae. A dancing, singing, laughing, impish mob of all sorts and stations. Some, as Ryoka had seen, were vibrant, realer<\/em>, more powerful. But they were still of the same nature, here for the party.<\/p>\n The second kind were the warriors, like the armored thing of frost and metal who stood next to Ulva Terland and the laughing fae on the Golem\u2019s lap.<\/p>\n There were\u2026less than a dozen of them. A paltry escort! And yet\u2014each one made Tyrion sweat. His hand was on his sword. But he did not draw it.<\/p>\n Hospitality. There was more than an [Emperor]\u2019s will in this. Part of him sensed that to offer violence in this place, at this time, was unwise. Even so\u2014he had yet to release the grip on his sword.<\/p>\n Did they even have faces? What were they?<\/em> The silent warriors took no part in the delight. Their armor and blades were of no make or style he could name. They stood half-invisible in their stillness.<\/p>\n Warriors of the Faerie King.<\/em> Some, like Lady Rie, Bethal, Thomast, had seen one<\/em> of them for the last party. Now, there were seven.<\/p>\n Magic in numbers. They stood around the place marked out for the fae, sentinels. Interestingly\u2014that was how the fae had appeared.<\/p>\n None in the streets of Riverfarm. None past the place made without iron, specially designated for them. It was as if they knew where they were welcome. For all that, they called out, to the stunned crowd, to the entertainers.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019ve come! Bring your gifts, sellers of things!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAye, and your food! Yon pile of snacks! The delights of sweet and breads! Bring it here!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cDance for us! Dance with<\/em> us! We were promised a party like no other! On this longest day\u2014show us delights!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n They laughed. Their voices a chorus, indistinguishable in the mob. But again\u2014they were not all alike.<\/p>\n And they were here. The fae! Ryoka Griffin stared about as one cartwheeled past her, laughing. She caught a narrow face, eyes without pupils, dark, glittering. Wings\u2014<\/p>\n A pixie?<\/em> Only, human-sized! She leapt, and gravity forgot to touch her. Flashing past a Level 40 [Tumbler] soaring through the air. The performer from Invrisil gawked as much as the fae, and nearly missed her landing.<\/p>\n \u201cYou did it, Ryoka. You did <\/em>it!\u201d<\/p>\n Someone cried out. Durene. The half-Troll girl looked around for Ryoka, crying out in relief. She had not known all of the stakes, but she knew enough. Ivolethe\u2014Ryoka\u2019s party. And the wounded friend.<\/p>\n She had worked so hard<\/em> for this moment. And it had happened at last! She wanted to find Ryoka and hug her. She saw the young woman, standing at the edge of the party. Durene ran over\u2014and stopped.<\/p>\n It was true. This was the day. Or rather\u2014evening and soon night. But it would be the grandest of parties. Three heads of the Five Families. The Summer Court. A hundred small miracles to make one grand one.<\/p>\n Everything she wanted. The Wind Runner had it now, the opportunity of a lifetime that might never come again. The third great party of the fae in this world in living memory.<\/p>\n And now they were here at last? Ryoka Griffin swayed on her bare feet. She was shuddering, dead white. Durene stared at her.<\/p>\n Why?<\/p>\n She did not understand. Ryoka had realized in that moment that she had not known what to expect. What form had she expected the fae to take? Honestly\u2014<\/p>\n A version of the Winter Sprites. Like Erin\u2019s first party for the fae, where they had entered her inn and devoured her foods, in miniature form.<\/p>\n Not this. She had not been here for the second party, when the summer fae had arrived. She had not seen them and no one had spoken of it in that detail, thinking Ryoka knew.<\/p>\n But their appearances here\u2014were far different than the Winter Faeries. And to Ryoka, they conjured half-forgotten horror.<\/p>\n They had only taken this form in front of her once.<\/p>\n She remembered a fire. Visitors on a Solstice day. Lost fingers.<\/em><\/p>\n Ryoka reflexively looked around. But saw no\u2026shadows. No mist. In fact, shadows were practically banished among the light, the sound\u2014<\/p>\n But it was this day. And for a moment, the Wind Runner felt it. This was a moment. A time when great good\u2014or ill\u2014could occur.<\/p>\n She stirred herself after another second, realized Durene was there. Ryoka blinked. And the dark memory was gone. The glowing fae were like a beacon against the darkness. So long as they were here\u2014no evil could intrude. No poison or treachery suffered!<\/p>\n So long as you were here. Ryoka walked forwards, into the gathering of the fae.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n —-<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Across the world, the Blighted King, Othius IV, who had reigned for longer than most mortal men had been alive, even half-Elves, saw the grand ritual begin.<\/p>\n No great gathering had been assembled the second time. No hundreds of Rhir\u2019s finest nobility, warriors, and witnesses.<\/p>\n This ritual took place in secret. Far underground. In a vast, empty space cleared of everything except the magical circle.<\/p>\n To any student of magic, it was a strange conjuration. It had no reason to it. The magic circle itself was the most complex spell in existence. Undead servants and living [Mages] had labored without rest to draw the incredibly complex, minute patterns. Not a single part could be wrong. And yet\u2014the circle had completed itself<\/em> near the end. Repairing small mistakes.<\/p>\n That was already grand magic. And it frightened the [Mages] because they could neither understand it nor decipher any part of it. It was not magic as they knew it.<\/p>\n Second\u2014the ritual space had no base of power. Nor a perceivable target. Spells needed a source<\/em> of power, just like fire needed fuel. This one?<\/p>\n Well, the Blighted King knew one source of power. He stood, impatiently, with only Nereshal beside him.<\/p>\n The room was empty. So empty it was frightening. He had not made this a grand occasion. This was like the first experiments, when they had tried to summon one<\/em>. And, apparently, failed.<\/p>\n But the scale of this circle was ten times the last one. An exponentially greater ritual. It would deliver him his victory. Othius\u2019 hands were slightly clammy. His regal garb askew; and no servants to correct it. He felt as though everything should be perfect for his triumph.<\/p>\n He would make do. The [King] raised a hand.<\/p>\n \u201cBegin.\u201d<\/p>\n It began with a sigh. There were only six people in the room besides the two onlookers. Six [Mages].<\/p>\n One of them was High Mage Laisa. Her hands still felt the biting pain. She still shuddered with memory of her\u2026interrogation.<\/p>\n But her faith in the Blighted Kingdom had been restored. The demons must be destroyed.<\/em> She had doubted, fled, become traitor with the other [High Mages]\u2014half of whom had disobeyed their king with her.<\/p>\n \u2014Yet after meeting His Majesty in person, she had realized the error of her ways. Laisa had seen reason and gone back to her work.<\/p>\n Still, the sigh escaped her lips. It was too late to stop. But she was afraid.<\/p>\n The [Mages] channeled their linked mana into the spell to activate it. Then? All they had to do was keep the connection. Open\u2026something.<\/p>\n The [High Mage] feared what would come next. She had felt it both times before. A\u2026tearing. Something opening she could not explain. This time\u2014she feared what would occur.<\/p>\n But for now, she simply stood. Feeling her power activate the ritual and it slowly begin to change something.<\/p>\n The Blighted King and Nereshal watched. After a while, they sat down. The one thing they had learned from the last ritual?<\/p>\n Bring chairs.<\/p>\n It took a long<\/em> time.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n —-<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cThey\u2019re here. They\u2019re here.<\/em> Break out the drinks! The food! Entertainers, to the guest area! Remember\u2014keep everyone else out.<\/em> Children, the folk of Riverfarm\u2014remember the rules!\u201d<\/p>\n Mister Prost and Lady Rie were directing people from the edge of the gathering. Riverfarm\u2019s folk and the many from abroad stared at the giant ring where the mysterious visitors frolicked. The party was going on in Riverfarm\u2019s streets. But clearly\u2014there was an inner gathering as well.<\/p>\n Many people wanted to attend. But Beniar, the army, and the noble\u2019s escorts kept most back. It was for their<\/em> safety.<\/p>\n And already, the gathering had begun to move past simply amazing into\u2026wondrous. Both foul and fair.<\/p>\n \u201cDance with me, won\u2019t you, sir? Little lord of these lands?\u201d<\/p>\n A laughing, beautiful creature appeared in front of Lord Ranga. Mystified, he looked at the person; she had fins<\/em> and gills.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you a Drowned Woman? Er\u2014that is to say, I\u2019d be delighted, Miss\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRanga! I\u2019m right here!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n His wife slapped him. The [Lord] heard delighted laughter and the trickster fae leapt away. This time to go after his son! The younger [Lord] instantly took her hand and Ranga went after both\u2014why, he couldn\u2019t say. His wife went after him\u2014<\/em>until one of the other fae beseeched her for a dance.<\/p>\n The nobles were whirled into the crowd, forgetting their dignity as the fae asked for a dance, conversation, a partner to eat or laugh with. Not just the nobility; the bodyguards, servants, were singled out for reasons only the fae knew.<\/p>\n A few of the fae were clearly here to make the mortals suffer, if only with tricks and pranks like Lord Ranga\u2019s family. Some meetings were darker.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2026know you. Don\u2019t I?\u201d<\/p>\n Lord Tourant\u2019s son stopped, abruptly. Brushed at his face. Then shuddered. The two laughing fae who had seized his arms giggled.<\/p>\n He stared at his missing fingers. Then at them.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cYou promised us such things<\/em>, boy! Will you not fulfill your promise?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cI\u2014I did. But I misspoke.\u201d<\/p>\n They laughed, uncaring, tugging him fiercely. One whispered at him.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cYet you promised us. And we are not some mortal women. You promised us. Make good on your promise.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n He shuddered again. But trailed after them. Part of his ear was missing too. And yet\u2014he was half-longing, half-terrified as he followed them into the shadows.<\/p>\n And some simply\u2026odd.<\/p>\n \u201cChild!<\/em> Ah, a child after so long!\u201d<\/p>\n A tall figure, nearly eight feet tall, bent down. His? Her? Face was long, closer to equine. Their legs<\/em> seemed far longer than the rest of them, for that matter.<\/p>\n They squatted down as Eliasor stared up. The figure laughed and sat.<\/p>\n \u201cLittle ones! Shall we play games? Show me your tricks! Play with me this game.\u201d<\/p>\n They pointed at the chess board and Grev\u2019s scam. The figure saw the children back away, even Grev, except for Eliasor.<\/p>\n Part of the [Lady] was wary. But she looked into the giant fae\u2019s eyes and saw\u2014<\/p>\n \u201cExcuse me, sir. But do you wish to play games?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes. It has been too long since we have walked among the little ones. Tell me your grief, child. Then\u2014abandon it.\u201d<\/p>\n Nothing but pure kindness shone there. The giant smiled and Eliasor burst into tears. She sat, and played a game as the fae listened. Then\u2014forgot her sadness and began to laugh. The other children began to gather around and spoke of the saddest things they had felt.<\/p>\n The sadness produced tears\u2014then vanished. Then they laughed and the fae laughed too, in delight. They ate greedily from the tables, and ran about in delight.<\/p>\n Lady Zanthia watched the tall fae warily. No easy trust from her. As did the [Witches]. But the giant figure paid them no mind.<\/p>\n \u201cIt took their grief like one of us. What is it? I cannot tell its species\u2014a half-Giant?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI do not know. If we must battle it\u2014does it have a grip upon the children, do you think, Eloise?\u201d<\/p>\n The [Witches] stood together. Agratha, Eloise, Mavika, Hedag\u2014it was Agratha who turned to Eloise and Oliyaya. The scarred [Witch] made an indecipherable sound.<\/p>\n There were [Witches] in this gathering, young and old. They had invited themselves to the noble\u2019s fancy. But like [Witches]\u2014the old had not forbidden the young, despite the danger. Agratha had wanted to. The others had overruled them.<\/p>\n This was a time of power. And the [Witches], even the young ones, were warier of the fae than the other mortals.<\/p>\n \u201cIf we must do battle\u2014it would be unwise, sisters. But if we must, do not break the rules of hospitality. And that [Lady] will help us.\u201d<\/p>\n Zanthia was striding towards the tall fae, but somehow, never managing to get there. It was as if the children were a hundred miles away, and she never got closer no matter how fast she walked, despite one of them running past her. Zanthia stopped, bewildered.<\/p>\n And growing angrier.<\/p>\n \u201cIs it a thing of good or evil, then?\u201d<\/p>\n Mavika turned her head, almost astonished to hear the question coming from one of them. Hedag had asked. She had taken the worn executioner\u2019s axe out and was studying the tall fae with bright eyes.<\/p>\n Wariness in the air.<\/em><\/p>\n Then\u2014the [Witches] saw something that made them all stir. Agratha\u2019s jaw dropped.<\/p>\n \u201cImpossible! It can\u2019t be! It\u2019s\u2014<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n The tall figure had fingers proportionally as long as its legs. As it sat cross-legged and Eliasor pondered her move, the [Witches] saw a long line of\u2026grief\u2026draw from one finger to another. A line of thread.<\/p>\n Thread.<\/em> The figure\u2019s fingers moved, twisting the thread. Without perception of how, it grew longer, from a thin thread into a wider band of cloth. Wider\u2014longer\u2014<\/p>\n The thread grew more complex. Weaving in, out. With different shades of grief. Some petty, some terribly hard to bear, like Eliasor\u2019s. Before the [Lady] had made a move, the figure had created\u2026<\/p>\n A scarf. One with a pattern so complex that it almost hurt the eyes. Of soft blues, like that of the pine of blue spruce, shades of darkness like the shadows in caves, and fragments of gold; bright as a match\u2019s first illumination in a dark room.<\/p>\n \u201cIt spins like Belavierr!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n Agratha cried out. Oliyaya just laughed and clapped her hands. Her voice was raw when she spoke.<\/p>\n \u201cNo. Better.<\/em> What creatures are these? The oldest! Did she learn from it?\u201d<\/p>\n The [Witches] saw Zanthia stumble forwards suddenly, and nearly kick over the chess board. She caught herself, and the oldest [Lady] present rounded on the tall creature.<\/p>\n \u201cExcuse me, sir or madam.<\/em> But Lady Eliasor is my ward. I do not believe I taught her to converse so readily with strangers of your ilk.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLady Zanthia. I was only\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n Eliasor started guiltily. Zanthia faced down the tall fae, clearly wary of its intentions. The [Witches] stirred. They <\/em>did not want to test its strength; not after seeing it match Belavierr\u2019s Skill in a moment. And even she could not have taken that grief so easily!<\/p>\n For a moment, the tall fae regarded Zanthia without expression. Simply\u2014judging her. Then, the long features turned into a gentle smile. It reached out, and\u2014quite unbidden\u2014draped the scarf around Zanthia\u2019s neck.<\/p>\n \u201cThere. You should have done better, mentor. Bear it this night and I will reward you your kindness.\u201d<\/p>\n It spoke, admonishingly. Eloise stirred herself. She saw the old lady stumble,<\/em> as if the scarf weighed\u2014<\/p>\n All their grief, spun into that thing. <\/em>Zanthia nearly sank to one knee. But the fae had not misjudged her. Her head rose and her hand half-touched the scarf. She looked at the fae, then at Eliasor, who was laughing as Grev, also smiling despite his loss, pointed out a move Erin had taught him.<\/p>\n \u201cAh.\u201d<\/p>\n She looked at the fae. It held out a single finger, and Zanthia clasped it once. The thing smiled\u2014<\/p>\n They had an agreement. Zanthia turned away, as the children laughed. The [Lady]\u2019s chin rose, and she walked away, bearing the heavy scarf.<\/p>\n The [Witches] sighed in relief. And in truth\u2014they needn\u2019t have worried. Of the mortals here, the fae doted on the children. There were those who did not, of course.<\/p>\n But they were not welcome here.<\/em> And\u2014there were rules. The watching warriors stopped the two trying to pull Lord Tourant\u2019s son out of the bounds of the party.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cBut he promised! We have the right!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n One of the colorful fae protested. Last time no one had stopped them! But this time?<\/p>\n Frost<\/em> emanated from one of the dark visors. A hand reached out and winter\u2019s chill covered the land for a second, despite the warmth of the evening, the bright fires. The fae balked; turned pale.<\/p>\n One was greater than the other two combined. Far more. It was\u2014intensity. The two sprang away from the [Lord] who gasped in relief.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cFine! Curses upon you!<\/em>\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n The other spat and scrabbled in the dirt to throw a clod of soil at the warrior. It bounced off. The visor turned; the fae fled with a scream.<\/p>\n Childish. Petty. Grand and mysterious. And that was one moment out of many. Each person found themselves talking to the fae, the center of their story for a night.<\/p>\n Ryoka Griffin felt it. Time was already strange here. She felt as if the fae had been there\u2014as if some of those events had taken place before<\/em> everyone had seen them here. Certainly, as she pushed forwards, shouting for attention, Lady Zanthia already wore the scarf<\/em> as she summoned a pouting Eliasor to attend.<\/p>\n And Ryoka had shouted at once for everyone to listen to her. She waved her arms as people drew around her. Even some of the fae, wanting to listen. Ryoka looked around.<\/p>\n They were here! But where was\u2014<\/em>she turned to a figure standing to attention.<\/p>\n \u201cGamel, where is Laken?\u201d<\/p>\n The [Knight] blinked. Ryoka stared at him blankly, confused. He was always<\/em> by Laken\u2019s side as a bodyguard! Gamel frowned at the oddity too. Then his brow cleared.<\/p>\n \u201cHis Majesty is occupied.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2014don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n Another frown. Ryoka stared at him. Laken was occupied? Okay. Well then.<\/p>\n She turned back as the [Witches] marched over, and Lord Tyrion and a dozen nobles walked into view. Then Ryoka\u2019s head slowly turned back. Wait a sec.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sure\u2026Laken\u2026would want to be here. Gamel.\u201d<\/p>\n The young man\u2019s eyes crossed. He opened and closed his mouth.<\/p>\n \u201cBut he is\u2014occupied\u2014Miss Griffin. We should not bother him.\u201d<\/p>\n But\u2026Laken was an [Emperor]. And didn\u2019t she need\u2026? Ryoka\u2019s mind struggled for a moment, but there was nothing to struggle with. It was like trying to fight nothing.<\/p>\n Nothing at all. Yet surely he\u2019d want to\u2014to\u2014<\/em><\/p>\n Laken was not at the party of the fae. He was not here. He was occupied. Ryoka\u2019s expression cleared at once.<\/p>\n Oh, of course he was. Well, the party would have to go on without the [Emperor]\u2026why, exactly?<\/p>\n She strained. But it slipped away. And then\u2014<\/p>\n <\/p>\n —-<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Since only one person from Earth was at the party, Ryoka summoned Riverfarm\u2019s people, the nobility, and everyone else in earshot. She repeated the rules they had been told; this time with emphasis.<\/p>\n \u201cPromise them nothing. Offer them nothing. Make no deals with them; there\u2019s nothing to be gained here. Any [Merchant] who wants to sell your wares\u2014if you want to wake up with a handful of flowers the next day, be my guest.\u201d<\/p>\n The listeners stirred. Some of the [Traders] hesitated. The fae were flashing gold and gemstones at them. Ryoka felt the dream-like quality herself.<\/p>\n \u201cListen to me.<\/em> Just don\u2019t give offense. Don\u2019t promise anything. Step out of this party\u2014go to Riverfarm if you feel like you\u2019re getting sucked in. Beyond that? They have rules too.\u201d<\/p>\n She saw Lord Tourant\u2019s son walking towards Riverfarm, abandoning the party. A few people joined him. She thought they might be the ones with the most sense. Ryoka felt like she was forgetting something\u2014but there was nothing else she could say.<\/p>\n She eyed Lady Zanthia.<\/p>\n \u201cTheir deals are seldom ones you\u2019d enjoy, milady. You\u2014you should take off that scarf.\u201d<\/p>\n The old [Lady] raised a hand to the thing around her neck, then shook her head. She fixed Ryoka with a stern eye.<\/p>\n \u201cI will not. Rather, young lady, it seems you are exaggerating. There are deals to be made for the better. But they carry their deal of risk. As do all trades.\u201d<\/p>\n Ryoka hesitated. That was true. It was just\u2014with the fae, you really were<\/em> dealing with the highest stakes. You couldn\u2019t renege, or negotiate.<\/p>\n \u201cJust be careful. Especially [Merchants]. You could lose all your goods if you try to sell them here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI heard the flowers are worth something, though.\u201d<\/p>\n A [Trader] murmured. He was eying a heaping handful of gold one of the fae held out. The Wind Runner whirled.<\/p>\n \u201cHow do you know that?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n Erin had never told anyone! But the [Trader] just pointed at one of the fae.<\/p>\n \u201cThey told me.\u201d<\/p>\n The giggling figures offering the fake gold laughed as Ryoka turned on them. They flitted away, like naughty children. Ryoka shook her head after a moment.<\/p>\n \u201cIf they told you, then you know <\/em>they\u2019re tricking you! Don\u2019t be stupid! You\u2019ve been warned. Neither his Majesty nor I will recompense you.\u201d<\/p>\n The man hesitated. He eyed the gold longingly, then shook himself and stepped away. The fae cursed and hurled the gold at Ryoka. Some of the people went scattering, picking it up. Ryoka just shielded her face and swore back.<\/p>\n \u201cThat hurt! Throw them elsewhere! I know what they are! Ow! Stop it! Why the hell do they <\/em>hurt?\u201d<\/p>\n A sly voice in her ear. A tufted-ear fae winked at Ryoka and whispered with a voice unlike the others.<\/p>\n \u201cThey are not flowers anymore, but pebbles. The Winter Court said there was too much value in flowers. Ah, what tricks mortals play!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n Ryoka turned to the figure. His voice didn\u2019t have that\u2026ephemeral quality some of the others did. A different species? His eyes were like an animal\u2019s. The pupils\u2014he winked and bounded off.<\/p>\n \u201cIt seems you have your visitors. Worthy of an [Emperor] indeed. Do you need\u2026assistance, Miss Griffin?\u201d<\/p>\n Lord Tyrion stiffly spoke. Ryoka turned; her cheeks bulged and she let out a laugh before she could help it.<\/p>\n The [Lord] had already been beset by the fae. They\u2019d put flowers in his hair, draped a garland of buds around his neck, and tossed petals all over him. Jericha kept removing them; but somehow there were more flowers and he looked like a bouquet.<\/p>\n Tyrion did not quite<\/em> look like a statue, but he was certainly stiff with cold indignation. Ryoka covered another laugh.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m\u2014sorry. They\u2019re tricksters, Lord Veltras. And I think\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n She looked around.<\/p>\n \u201cI think I\u2019m fine. I have to do this. Alone, I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n He nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cSimply call if you need aid. Jericha\u2014I will have a drink.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Lord Veltras!\u201d<\/p>\n The flustered woman hurried off after him. Ryoka watched the flower-bedecked [Lord] for a moment and wished she had time to see<\/em> all the hilarity. Certainly, there was that, and great meetings afoot!<\/p>\n The nobility\u2019s titles earned them little here. The fae mingled with them with cheery good humor, out for their own entertainment, some with agendas. Now Ryoka stared at them, trying to find reason in the chaos.<\/p>\n Searching for the one or ones she needed.<\/p>\n It was hard. They all looked like, well, folk.<\/em> Humanoid in shape, lithe, ethereal, possessed of that quality of half-Elves, but not diluted.<\/p>\n Beyond that? Ryoka could pin them down neither by the color nor nature of their skin, nor anything else. Some had feathers, others horns. Some appeared covered in fur, but the thing was\u2014she couldn\u2019t be sure of anything. If she stared too close<\/em>, her eyes unfocused. It was fine to take in the fae, but to try and ask what exact shape their ears were? That was when the mind seemed to untether itself.<\/p>\n Three of them were different, though. As Ryoka had observed; there was an intensity<\/em> about them. That was how you determined their nature.<\/p>\n Some were as close to mortal as you got. Others seemed realer than reality. They drew the eye. They had the quality of power in every inch of them, such that you knew<\/em> they were something.<\/p>\n It was like an aura. The figure who had given Zanthia the scarf was certainly\u2026more vivid than two thirds of the rest.<\/p>\n But not the most intense. There were three of them, who were even more there<\/em> than the seven warriors.<\/p>\n Three, seven. Magical numbers. It made sense too; three for three.<\/p>\n Each one different. One was male, flighty, graceful and ethereal, like the Summer Court. The other, female, dangerous, serpentine. The last? Tall, venerable, stationary.<\/p>\n That was the feeling Ryoka got from all three. She knew\u2014one of them was the one she sought.<\/p>\n She tried to get towards them. Walking through the crowd. But she had forgotten.<\/p>\n This night was not hers alone. And the fae had little interest in her, <\/em>at least, most of them. Ryoka began to make her way after the three figures as they mingled, but people, meetings, events, got in her way. And each attracted the eye.<\/p>\n Ulva Terland was seated, her escort lamely trying to fend off a group of four fae guests who were ignoring them. None of them were willing to draw a weapon, and the Golems acted as if the fae weren\u2019t there.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2014I am Ulva Terland. Please stop putting flowers in my hair.\u201d<\/p>\n The [Lady] protested weakly; the fae were planting beautiful blooms in her hair. Not like the nectar and sap-covered ones they\u2019d besmirched Tyrion with. She was about to rise to get away when one caught her hand.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t go! Stay! Sit with us! We know grief! We know loss!\u201d<\/p>\n He beckoned her to sit. The others chorused agreement. Ulva hesitated.<\/p>\n \u201cBut it is undignified. You are not nobility.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo? Sit and rest your burdens! We have dined with great kings and queens! You should bow to us!\u201d<\/p>\n They laughed. Perplexed, but feeling like she was in some pleasant daydream, Ulva sat. She would never have said such things normally. But this was no normal time.<\/p>\n Ryoka stumbled past the group, and heard the one who had beseeched Ulva first speak. She looked sideways and saw\u2014<\/p>\n An earnest face. Beautiful eyes and lips, focused on the [Lady] with real concern. Brushed features, as if carved by a master. A youthful countenance, swept hair so that the boy looked nothing past sixteen.<\/em><\/p>\n And then\u2014<\/p>\n The stone held the [Lady]\u2019s hand. Or perhaps\u2014she held it. Nothing more than stone. No more artistry than what wind and time had given it. Ryoka stared at the thing made of pure, glowing jade and heard its voice in her head.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cYou are so sad<\/em>, lady! The King of Goblins cut your heart in two, didn\u2019t he? And half your soul is lost. More<\/em> than just a sister, she was, wasn\u2019t she? Half of you.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n Lady Ulva started. She looked at the fae\u2014the young man\u2014the jade being\u2014with wide eyes. She murmured.<\/p>\n \u201cYes. H-how did you know? We were [Twin Virtues]. We\u2014I\u2019ve forgotten how to laugh. I\u2019m so afraid of death. Of oblivion\u2026she is gone. And half of me\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPut it aside. Eat. Dance! And be kinder to your children of metal and stone.\u201d<\/p>\n The figure assured her. It indicated the still War Golem. The lights in its gemstone eyes were flickering as another of the\u2026stone-fae hugged it, laughing. Ryoka walked past, wanting to turn back. But she could not, as Ulva was enticed back into the party.<\/p>\n A second exclamation, from the stage. The Players of Celum were performing now, and it was the performance of their lifetimes.<\/p>\n A Midsummer\u2019s Night Dream. <\/em>That was what Ryoka had assumed would be best. The [Actor] emerged onto the stage.<\/p>\n He was playing Puck. Unlike other performances where he was the lead actor, he\u2019d taken the prankster\u2019s role, having the talent for it. He emerged, laughing, the spirit of mischief on cue\u2014<\/p>\n \u201cHow now, spirit! whither wander you?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Puck turned to the Fairy, Act II, Scene 1, and the Fairy<\/em> turned to him. Instead of one of the [Actors], Wesle saw a laughing face. Actual wings. She danced around him, giggling and replying.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cOver hill, over dale,<\/span> <\/p>\n Wesle\u2019s jaw dropped. In the audience, both fae and [Actor] alike fell over themselves laughing. Wesle barely managed to reply as the faerie spoke her lines, perfectly. He stumbled forwards until the arrival of the Faerie King himself and found instead of Kilkran, it was a fae, the audience cheering and hooting at the representation of their king.<\/p>\n They were taking part! But with a twist. The Faerie King spoke his lines; the laughing fae had put antlers on his head, the props, and the costume.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cTarry, rash wanton: am not I thy lord?\u201d<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n Then his eyes gleamed, and the fae threw down the antlers and smashed<\/em> them with one foot.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cBut I am not thy lord! Nor is this the King of Faeries! Enough! Begone with yon poor play!<\/em> Give us other tales! But not this poor mimicry!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n The other fae in the audience cheered and the \u2018Queen\u2019 and \u2018Fairy\u2019 tore off their costumes. Some of the fae cried out.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cAnd give us parts! We want to be story and tale!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYes, another story! Not this tripe!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n They were good-natured. But their will implacable. Emme scrambled, and soon had a cast with one fourth fae, who strutted onto stage reciting their lines poorly and arguing with the crowd, and [Actors]. Two plays, in fact, so the fae could become actors of their own as they wished.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n —-<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Ryoka breathed out hard<\/em> when she saw that. That could have been horrible. She\u2019d thought the fae approved of stories about them!<\/p>\n But not the Faerie King. His name\u2014she nearly spoke it aloud. Was it that name? Surely there was some truth to it. Perhaps if she uttered it\u2014<\/p>\n \u201cO\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n Every immortal head in forty paces turned<\/em> suddenly. And the merriment ceased. Ryoka bit the word off on the tongue. She saw them staring. Then they relaxed and went back to their pastimes.<\/p>\n Don\u2019t say it, then.<\/em><\/p>\n On stage, the Battle for Invrisil, a cheap, Andel-written production that he\u2019d dashed off in half a day, was taking place. Fae were enjoying hurling \u2018daggers\u2019 and attacking each other on stage. The audience was laughing at the slapstick as a more somber Othello<\/em> played out on the grass on the second \u2018stage\u2019.<\/p>\n Fireworks overhead. Mage spells, rather. And the thing about mage spells was not only did they have the explosions, lights, and sound, but also smells.<\/em> Ryoka smelled brimstone as a roaring Wyvern took flight, battling what might have been a Phoenix.<\/p>\n Ice and fire. She felt the cold and heat collide as people applauded below. Where were<\/em> they?<\/p>\n There were too many people! Too many attractions! Ryoka kept catching sight of one of the three, but kept losing them.<\/p>\n Not just because of the crowds. It was how they moved.<\/em> The fae had a grace no one, not even Thomast, or those with movement Skills, could match.<\/p>\n They flickered<\/em> from spot to spot, whirling through the crowd, dancing as if they teleported. But it wasn\u2019t teleportation. Ryoka saw one go through a crowd of bodies clustered around a tray of jam tarts. It was so much of a press that even Sammial and Hethon couldn\u2019t squeeze<\/em> through the gaps, and oh, the boys were trying.<\/p>\n Yet, somehow, the fae slipped through a gap between the bodies. Ryoka saw the figure twist,<\/em> step\u2014it looked so natural that Lord Ranga\u2019s son tried it and slammed into the knot of people. As if you had never learned how to properly step sideways and if you only could, you could step through any crack in the world\u2026<\/p>\n Ranga\u2019s son and the group went down in a sprawl and Sammial and Hethon grabbed two tarts and were away, savoring the blackberry sweets with delight. So did the fae, who had grabbed three and was gobbling them down greedily.<\/p>\n The trick had impressed the two boys. They stared up at the fae. Hethon was content to gobble, having listened to Ryoka\u2019s rules and those by the [Emperor].<\/p>\n But Sammial?<\/p>\n Sammial was Sammy. And he pointed up at the guest.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat are you? Will you teach me how to do that?\u201d<\/p>\n He pointed at one of the cavorting fae, with long horns and a nearly nude upper torso and\u2026goat\u2019s hooves?<\/em> She winked at him. She?<\/em><\/p>\n Ryoka paused, panting, having run<\/em> after one of the three and stared at the Satyr. She bent down, cloven hooves dancing upon some brickwork.<\/p>\n \u201cI? I am me, little boy. I could teach you how to walk between the edges of things. It is not hard for us! But what will you give me<\/em> if I do?\u201d<\/p>\n Fae bargains. Ryoka uneasily turned towards him. But then she saw the shining dancer whirl past and tried to jump after him. She failed; he was gone across the dance floor in an instant.<\/p>\n Hethon licked his jam-covered lips.<\/p>\n \u201cSammy, I don\u2019t think this is a good idea.\u201d<\/p>\n Sammial\u2019s brow wrinkled as he stared up at the horned woman.<\/p>\n \u201cGive you? My gratitude as a [Lord]. Or money? My father will pay you.\u201d<\/p>\n The Satyr blinked, took a bite of her jam tart, then sprayed crumbs as she laughed in his face.<\/p>\n \u201cHah! Gratitude? Naught for naught, brat!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n She turned away, losing interest at once. Sammy wiped spit and crumbs off his face. Then he got mad.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t turn away from me!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOr what? What will you do, little lord who speaks like a lion?\u201d<\/p>\n She mooned him, flicking up a tufted tail. Some of the other fae listening laughed themselves off their feet. Sammy turned bright red. Ryoka was hurrying back when she felt a familiar pressure.<\/p>\n Oh no. <\/em>Sammy pointed at the Satyr and shouted.<\/p>\n \u201cYou will teach me. I command it!<\/strong>\u201d<\/p>\n The aura touched the female Satyr\u2014and broke. Sammial stumbled backwards. Some of the watching nobility whistled. Pryde herself blinked as she turned, drink in hand, from talking with a faerie about gains in weight lifting.<\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t that the aura hadn\u2019t worked. It was that it had been blown away without effort. The Satyr\u2019s eyes narrowed. She drew herself up as Sammial stared at her. And her voice grew deeper, a flash of annoyance crossing her merry expression.<\/p>\n \u201cCommand me? You are not my<\/em> king or a king at all! I have danced in the courts of great kings of men. Go elsewhere with your trick, little boy. For you\u2019ve offended my nature, demanding so. Not for the ransom of a Dragon\u2019s hoard will I teach you, or ambrosia fit for\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n She hesitated. A word hovered in the air, unspoken. The other fae hissed<\/em> softly around her and the Satyr caught herself.<\/p>\n \u201c\u2014for heroes and saints! Begone, bratling.\u201d<\/p>\n And she shoved him upon the chest, so hard, Sammial fell on his rear end. Doubtless it didn\u2019t really hurt, but he was up in a second.<\/p>\n \u201cHow dare you!\u201d<\/p>\n Hethon tried to catch his brother, but Sammy darted forwards. Face red, he balled up a fist. The Satyr looked down and Sammy punched her in the leg.<\/p>\n The furry leg didn\u2019t so much as shift. The half-Goat fae didn\u2019t blink. And yet\u2014Ryoka looked up as the mood around the young [Lord] shifted<\/em>.<\/p>\n \u201cYou have breached hospitality, little boy. That was unwise of you.\u201d<\/p>\n The Satyr slowly looked down. Sammy glared up at her. The glare slowly turned into uncertainty. And then\u2026<\/p>\n A touch of fear.<\/p>\n The Satyr smiled. It was not a kindly smile. Her teeth were very<\/em> sharp.<\/p>\n A harsh buzzing filled the air, and some of the nobles and people of Riverfarm groaned aloud to hear it. They knew that sound.<\/p>\n The fae around her abandoned their refreshments. They turned, eyes gleaming, turning\u2026insectile? Predatory, at least. Their enjoyments and whimsy and kindness were one side of a narrow coin. On the other?<\/p>\n Cruelty and the delight in such things lay. The Satyr reached down as Sammial backed up. Hethon tried to bar her way. Across the party, Lord Tyrion and Jericha turned. House Veltras\u2019 guards stirred.<\/p>\n \u201cStop.\u201d<\/p>\n The Satyr stopped. Ryoka Griffin, panting, touched her arm. Just a touch.<\/p>\n The fae woman turned.<\/p>\n \u201cYou saw, windfriend. Did you not see him offend me twice, in word and then deed?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI saw.\u201d<\/p>\n Ryoka wanted to curse Sammial. Why was he here?<\/em> They should have kept him in Riverfarm! But of course he was attracted to this inner party. She kept her gaze on the Satyr.<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s just a boy. A rude one.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen he should suffer for his tongue. I would only do that.\u201d<\/p>\n The Satyr tilted her head. Ryoka half-nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cHe should. But his father won\u2019t take kindly to the lesson. Please\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n Sammial made an outraged noise, but quietly. Ryoka looked at the Satyr, thinking what could be done to prevent a fight. Because if someone drew their weapon, she was sure one of the warriors would intervene. And then someone would die.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201c\u2014What do you want me to do to repay his insult, Lady Satyr?\u201d<\/p>\n The fae\u2019s eyes brightened. She looked at the Wind Runner, and then hugged Ryoka suddenly in delight. She smelled like, well, a goat, but not foul. Rather like a clean goat in a field of scented flowers. She smiled in delight, and then kissed Ryoka on the cheek.<\/p>\n \u201cYou know me? You know me! I did not think one of your ilk would remember!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course. Satyrs. I uh\u2014Bacchus? Or Dionysus, if you prefer. I didn\u2019t expect a Satyr to be here\u2014do those words mean anything to you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey do.<\/em> But such things are not to be spoken of here. Well, someone remembers the stories!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMany people do.\u201d<\/p>\n The harsh buzzing faded. The Satyr smiled; but she had not forgotten the insult. She looked Ryoka up and down and then laughed.<\/p>\n \u201cFor that, my anger is half appeased, little windfriend! If you wish to repay that boy\u2019s offense, take it up!\u201d<\/p>\n She pointed at Sammial. Ryoka licked her lips.<\/p>\n \u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n The Satyr rolled her eyes as if it were obvious. She pointed at Sammial, then herself.<\/p>\n \u201cShow me something I<\/em> have never learned. Go on! Just as the boy demanded I do. Teach me something and I will forgo insult!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAh.\u201d<\/p>\n Shit. <\/em>Ryoka\u2019s mind whirled. She hated<\/em> faerie rules. Because you couldn\u2019t cheat like a Dragon. She doubted Pythagoras\u2019 Theorem or some complex mathematical feat would be acceptable. Teriarch? It worked on him. The fae? They\u2019d probably beat her to death.<\/p>\n How about how to be shot three times by a crossbow bolt and survive?<\/em> Ryoka felt an urge to laugh. But this was serious. The Satyr was smiling in that way that said Ryoka had to answer now.<\/em> Or the consequences would be the consequences.<\/p>\n Ryoka looked around. Think. Stories? No, but the Satyr wanted something. How to bake something? Make a trebuchet?<\/p>\n No, no, no.<\/em> How about martial arts? But then\u2014Ryoka doubted the Satyr didn\u2019t know how to kick<\/em> someone. Her eyes roamed the still area of the party ground, searching for inspiration.<\/p>\n She alighted on something held by a [Lady] watching with a [Chevalier]. Lady Bethal slowly licked the cupcake as she watched the drama. The frosting was red. Also? Glowing.<\/em><\/p>\n Ryoka stared at it. That was\u2014she knew why the frosting was glowing.<\/p>\n Strongheart Sage\u2019s Grass for a magical, glowing frosting. Some of the food, the recipes, had been supplied from Liscor. By an [Innkeeper] and her friends.<\/p>\n She should have been there. But she was not. Yet\u2014this was why Ryoka was here.<\/p>\n It came to her in a moment. A memory, and the answer.<\/p>\n A memory of a little Gnoll, a farm.<\/p>\n A happy day.<\/p>\n Ryoka turned to the Satyr. Why was she wasting her time here? Because the fae were watching her. Even one of the three. Because it mattered. The party as a whole. This moment. Was it all a test?<\/p>\n The Satyr was smiling. She waited, expectantly. Perhaps waiting for Ryoka to fail. Some of the fae were, betting their fake gold against actual money with some of the nobility.<\/p>\n Ryoka smiled.<\/p>\n \u201cVery well, Lady Satyr. May I at least try again if I fail?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI suppose so. But you had better try.\u201d<\/p>\n She smiled at Ryoka. The Wind Runner took a few steps back and bowed.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you. Then\u2014something even you have not seen before? A trick? Well, do you know how to do this?\u201d<\/p>\n She took a breath. And before she could worry about it, she performed a trick.<\/p>\n Or rather, tricking.<\/em> The Wind Runner ran and leapt, calling on the air and memory. She launched off one leg.<\/em> And her other leg carried her up and around in an entire rotation. The same trick that had delighted Ivolethe.<\/p>\n A cork. But the wind carried her up. Ryoka rotated, spinning nearly three times the normal rotation, and landed, nearly falling over, but saving the landing. So\u2026a triple<\/em> cork in the air? She spread her arms and turned to face the Satyr and audience.<\/p>\n The fae stared\u2014and then laughed. They applauded, shouting with delight.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cFlew! She flew!<\/em> Yet not a flip or<\/em> a spin! What was that?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cOho! The girl flips and turns and twists just so! Do it again!<\/em>\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n The Satyr herself was laughing with delight. She hopped, trying to imitate Ryoka, and then gave up.<\/p>\n \u201cA sight I have never seen! What trick of legs and acrobatics was that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs it new, then?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, yes! Show me! What things you Humans come up with!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n She pestered Ryoka, forgetting her fury in a moment. Ryoka showed her how she\u2019d stood and did it again\u2014minus the wind. The Satyr watched as Ryoka landed\u2014then copied how Ryoka had stood.<\/p>\n She leapt and mimicked the Wind Runner exactly, cloven hooves and half-goat form twisting with amazing grace in the air. Ryoka\u2019s jaw dropped as the Satyr landed.<\/p>\n \u201cAnother!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n The goat-fae demanded. Ryoka could have turned her down, but the Satyr and other fae wanted to see. And one of the three\u2014<\/p>\n Ryoka obliged. Hethon and Sammial saw their father and Jericha arrive at last, through the party. All four watched as Ryoka spun and leapt, in amazing<\/em> ways! Ways Hethon had never imagined someone could move!<\/p>\n The fae were copying her. Some with greater or lesser dexterity. But the Satyr kept pace.<\/p>\n So did the Level 40 [Tumbler], who was copying Ryoka\u2019s moves. Moves from another world. All three were laughing; then the [Tumbler] performed a trick where she did a fast summersault-into-handspring. Ryoka didn\u2019t even try<\/em> that. You must have needed a Skill\u2014<\/p>\n Or a Satyr. The goat woman copied the trick and the [Tumbler] gawked. The fae laughed, applauding Ryoka. And all was well.<\/p>\n Sammial Veltras was scolded by his father\u2014then Jericha\u2014and then Hethon punched him on the arm. Then came Ryoka Griffin, panting.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t do that again. Ever.\u201d<\/p>\n She sat down for a second. The sullen [Lord] looked at her, glaring.<\/p>\n \u201cI am a [Lord] of House Veltras! She insulted me! I was defending my honor!\u201d<\/p>\n He was mad because he was right. His father always said to be a proud [Lord], but he was only angry now.<\/em> Neither he nor Jericha had said more than Sammial was very foolish! The [Lord] was hopping mad and looking for Hethon to punch back.<\/p>\n Ryoka on the other hand just stared at Sammy blankly.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re a [Lord]? So what? She could have bitten half your face off before Jericha or your father did a thing, or kicked your skull out of your skin.<\/em> Don\u2019t be stupid.\u201d<\/p>\n The boy hesitated. This was not how adults normally talked to him.<\/p>\n \u201c\u2026She wouldn\u2019t have done that.\u201d<\/p>\n Ryoka gave him a long look that said \u2018yes\u2019. She sighed, and wiped sweat off her brow as she pointed back at the Satyr.<\/p>\n \u201cThey\u2019re more important than you are. More important than me\u2014or your father. You should be bowing to them. Think of it like that.\u201d<\/p>\n Sammy\u2019s jaw dropped. He stared at the fae.<\/p>\n \u201cBut they\u2019re not! Are they?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTreat them like they are. Now, I saved you once. I\u2019m not going to be able to do it again. Either promise to behave, or I\u2019ll ask Jericha to lock you in one of Riverfarm\u2019s houses.\u201d<\/p>\n She glared at him. Belatedly, Sammial realized she had done all that for him and remembered his manners.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you for saving me, Miss Ryoka Griffin. I promise to behave.\u201d<\/p>\n He muttered sullenly. Ryoka smiled briefly. She rose and stretched out her legs.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re welcome. Do that again and I\u2019ll<\/em> hit you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut I\u2019m a [Lord] and you\u2019re a Runner!\u201d<\/p>\n Sammy protested. Ryoka stared at him again as if he<\/em> had goat\u2019s horns growing out of his head.<\/p>\n \u201cSo? I have a hand, too. Everyone does. Remember that. If you\u2019re going to make people mad, you\u2019d better have Jericha, at least. Now, I have to go.\u201d<\/p>\n She trotted off with those words of wisdom in Sammial\u2019s head. He\u2019d never thought of it like that.<\/em> He looked at Lady Bethal as she passed, laughing and wanting to try the tricks with Thomast, remembered the stories about her, and edged away.<\/p>\n Ryoka was panting after that moment. But she was glad she\u2019d been there. She doubted the Satyr would have been kind. And no kid deserved to be hurt.<\/p>\n Well\u2014but no. Not spanked, much less beaten. Or whatever the fae might have done. Sammy reminded her of herself. And if anyone had thought you could beat bad habits out of children, they\u2019d have killed her long before anything changed.<\/p>\n People had done just that\u2026<\/p>\n Ryoka shook her head. Then she realized\u2014she was only a few steps away from one of her targets. The moment with Sammial and the Satyr had helped her, for the figure had stopped and looked back.<\/p>\n One of three. Ryoka stiffened. Her bare feet slowed upon the grass.<\/p>\n The eyes fixed her in place. Slitted pupils.<\/p>\n Depthless eyes.<\/em> Ryoka felt like she was falling through the depths of them. Falling\u2014falling deeper. She cried out, but the sound was lost.<\/p>\n She fell, through the air. Into a liquid made of the eyes. Deeper.<\/em><\/p>\n The Wind Runner gasped as the eyes shifted away from her. And that had been just a look.<\/em> She looked again and saw\u2014for a moment\u2014an outline of something\u2014<\/p>\n And then it was gone. And all that remained was the guest. She looked different. It was hard to focus on her.<\/p>\n Because it was not entirely her.<\/em> Just a reflection on the waters. The young woman realized it in a flash of understanding. The Satyr was real. But this?<\/p>\n For all that, Ryoka made out more details as she stumbled forwards. She was\u2026a Drake? No, like a cross between a serpent and a Drake.<\/p>\n A long tail, a longer neck\u2014those slitted<\/em> eyes. And when she looked down at Ryoka, her scales were a mix of onyx and byzantium. Her scales
\nThorough bush, thorough brier,<\/span>
\nOver park, over pale,<\/span>
\nThorough flood, thorough fire,<\/span>
\nI do wander everywhere!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n