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They’d probably returned later, on a payback mission to find Lark, Juniper, and Cove. Instead, they must have heard rumors about the sisters’ fate.

Clearly, the men had charmed the villagers. And feasibly, Juniper had been right about her earlier hunch. Maybe the neighbors had gotten riled up once they heard Lark had returned to Faerie, that she’d allegedly gone to be near her sisters, who were still being held captive.

That would explain the aerial signal the poachers had sent to the town once our battle had started. Both sets had unresolved grievances, the villagers especially.

Armed to the teeth, the poachers had decided to squat near Faerie and wait for an opportunity, a chance to trap our kin. If a grudge and an ego are a big enough combination, that’ll make anyone stupid.

What matters is, they saw Lark. Now the village knows she’s siding with Faeries. Easily, they’ve drawn the same conclusions about Juniper and Cove. It could be the final land mine needed to stir up shit, to get the humans to take action after nine years.

Our breaths puff into the night as we trundle down a backwoods path. Juniper moves confidently, without having to double-check the unmarked route. She creeps through as if she’s done it a thousand times.

“You’ve been here before,” I pant.

“It’s a passage my sisters and I used to take when scouting for rescues,” she replies while guiding me around a shrub. “We’ve done it so many times, it feels as though we’ve carved out a secret trail. See the indentations in the mulch?”

Small imprints and depressions have camouflaged themselves into the vegetation, the signs only visible to someone who knows how to hunt or track.

“Hidden in plain sight,” I remark. “I approve.”

“You would. Everything you do is hidden in plain sight.”

“Oh, come now. I’m much more candid about certain things. You’re not the only show-off in this relationship.”

At my flirtatious tone, a chuckle trips out of Juniper’s mouth. Partly, it sounds natural. But another part sounds forced.

She says this path will take longer to get to The Faerie Triad, but it’ll keep us out of range from the market square. As a result, it’s the slowest trip in the history of slow trips, worthy of its own epic Fable.

Eventually, we spill into the open plains, where a creek slithers through and flows toward a silhouette of jagged mountains. We follow the water. Based on its briny scent, it must be the creek from Elixir’s past, back when Cove and my brother were young enemies during The Trapping. According to both, she had tried to drown him here, but Cerulean had swooped in and stopped it from happening.

That had been around the same time I’d been firing arrows at humans chasing me and Sylvan. That night, I had believed Juniper helped them track me down.

Despite the higher grass in this area, only sheer luck prevents us from getting spotted while staggering across the pastures and looping northeast. The Triad looms overhead like a gate. The instant we stumble past the hawthorn, oak, and ash trees, everything changes.

The stars shift position in the sky. The colors transform to white, teal, and gold, each one spraying the landscape with metallic sheens. The distant calls of fauna ring like bells or horns, the sounds endless and vast, as if we’re in a hall of caves. And the air flooding my nostrils smells different from Juniper’s world, as familiar as the soil.

Fireflies zip through the foliage, able to brand the skin of anyone they touch. We cross through the insects’ colony and head to the cul-de-sac where three routes lead to three different regions.

A few steps later, two of those routes dissolve, and one remains. I swear, I’ve never been so fucking relieved to see candles twitching from the branches or the row of oaks arcing like a ribcage down The Solitary Forest’s entrance.

Through the arcade and along a narrow lane, we reach a grove of evergreens—the place where Juniper and I first reunited after nine years. The Wicked Pines is our territory, so we tuck ourselves into the thicket. And finally, we stop to catch our breaths.

Juniper releases me against a tree trunk and dumps her crossbow on the ground. I roll my good shoulder, which does barbaric things to my back, but the waterskin Juniper fishes from beneath a patch of needles makes up for that. We guzzle the contents and devour cured meat and bread, also from the hidden stash.

I’d ask, but there’s no bother. She must have planned for us to rest here, storing the provisions ahead of time.

Once we’re sated, I slouch. “My, my, my,” I heave, grinning through my exhaustion. “You are one determined woman.”

Juniper wrinkles her nose, as if this should be common knowledge. “Well. It wasn’t my sweet disposition that you fell for.”

My thumb streaks across her cheekbone. “I fell for everything.”

She gulps and steps back from my touch, about to reply when another voice gripes, “You know, when you told me to be patient, I didn’t think you meant I’d have to be patient for eternity.”

I whirl as a figure stomps from the fringes, his orange irises blazing. A bristling marten tail swishes from the Fae’s ass. If his trim figure isn’t a dead giveaway for his pubescent age, that sour puss scrunching his face like a dishrag does the rest.

Juniper packs away the rations. “You’re immortal,” she points out. “You have forever to live.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” the Fae grouses. “For a minute there, I forgot what the fuckimmortalmeant.”