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I heard Croygen make a noise behind me.

Sprig leaped to AB’s horse. “Churro. You are the dough beneath my wings… your scrumptious center, drizzled in cinnamon, sugar, and pure goodness. The ways I can consume you. How many times I fell asleep with you in my arms, mouth, and up my—”

“Sprig,” Croygen warned, hitching a bag of supplies up on his shoulder.

“But it is you…” Sprig bounced over to Croygen’s horse. “Caramel… I will miss the most. The closest to honey. The golden goddess of my heart.” He draped himself between Caramel’s ears. “Praise Saint Honey Tits… wait…” Sprig perked up his head. “Do horses have tits? Udders of caramel honey I can suckle from?”

“It’s amalehorse.” Croygen snorted, grabbing his pack. “But sure, go ahead and try, fuzzball… think whatever you suck down there will come out yellow… or maybe a cream—”

“Stop.” I held up my hand, my lids closing, needing to bar all thoughts going forward. “Just stop there.” I shook my head, causing Croygen to snicker to himself.

“Is he intercoursing with me again?” Sprig sniffed, his lids blinking. “He knows not to intercourse with me about honey.”

“Sprig, come on.” I patted Tootsie one last time, stepping away. The sprite bounded from Caramel to me, climbing on my shoulder and tucking under my hair.

Cooper helped Annabeth to the door, her wound redressed, her legs steadier thanks to the magic herbs the healer gave her back at the caves. But we all understood that any resurgence was only temporary.

AB would not get better. Not unless we found the nectar.

“Rule One.” The man stood right before the rippling magic. “Do not let go of each other. There are many doors. Many times we must run to catch one before it is gone. If you get lost? You are on your own. Rule two.” He opened his palm. “Half up front.”

“No.” Croygen struck back. “That was not our deal. You will get paid when we get there.”

“No. That is impossible. Half now.”

Croygen stepped up to him, not needing anyone else, his demeanor enough of a threat.

“Your son may be afraid of a superstition, but I think you’re wise enough to fearmeout of everyone.” Croygen’s voice was low, scraping the ground, his authority clear. Dominant.

And fuck did my body respond.

“Pirates tend to hold very long grudges. Your great-great-great grandchildren’s lives aren’t even a blink compared to mine. I won’t kill you. I will rain hell on your family for generations to come.” Croygen’s silvery tongue spun around his threat like silk. “Do you understand me?”

For the first time, I saw trepidation in the man’s eyes. He swallowed, his head dipping.

“Good! Let’s go.” Croygen slapped him on his shoulder, hitching his bag higher, a smile widening his features like they were old friends. The sudden switch made him even more dangerous and scary because he couldn’t be predicted. Something Croygen was good at. I had seen him do this to captives and sometimes troublesome crew on the ship many times when I was a young girl.

“Sprig?” Croygen glanced back at Sprig on my shoulder. “Come on.” He tapped at his coat pocket, where I knew Pam was. “You know you’re gonna pass out.”

Sprig chirped, hopping from my shoulder, using all the others to get to Croygen. Climbing down, he slipped into his pocket.

“If you pee or poop in there, Pam is not going to get a facelift again, but an entire head lift.” He grumbled at the monkey, then faced our guide.

The man blinked, still in shock at the monkey-sprite.

“Lead the way,” Croygen ordered.

The man shifted around, facing the door, nodding for Croygen to take hold of his loose robe-style jacket.

Croygen took the lead, grabbing the fabric. I shuffled back, nodding for AB to go next, that I would take the rear. “She needs to be between you two.” I motioned for Cooper to go next. It was better to keep AB with them, in a protected bubble, but in truth, I needed to be as far from Croygen as possible. My mind was pissed, and my feelings were hurt, but my body was even more of a defector.

I seemed to have no morals when it came to him. No ethics or principles either.

The tour guide stepped into the door with us trailing behind like a gaggle of waddling geese.

Before the wall fell, fae doors weren’t as prominent or as plentiful as they were now. When the barrier broke, it ripped thousands of tears through the atmosphere, making these glitches.

Before that, they were a lot harder to find, and most didn’t even use them. I had no memory of using one, though my father said I did a few times when my mother was still alive. There was no reason for me to. I enjoyed the journey, the wind in my hair, sailing across the sea.