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As we made our way into the cathedral, I noticed every window had been boarded up at one time, but you saw the money in every detail: the gold leaf paint, high arched ceilings, painted images, and ostentatious architecture. It was in extreme contrast to the garbage, blankets, and small possessions of the people living inside the vacated church. For once, it was being used for what it was actually for—helping the poor.

The smell of urine and body odor watered my eyes as we made our way through, finding a side door with the lock broken off. We slipped out into the night.

Deep in the witching hours, silence prickled at my skin—tense and filled with danger. No firebulbs lit the street, the moonlight casting a gruesome glow on the pedestrian lane. The arcade filled with gutted-out old tourist shops and cafes, signs hanging like ghosts above doorways, left hollow and tagged. Most were being used for people to sleep in.

Five years after the Fae War, after the Eastern Bloc pulled away from the West, you could feel the decline, the decay of the society they once knew. I had no idea about the politics here or who was in charge, but it was clear the people were being left out on their own.

Making our way to the river, it felt like a snapshot in time, taken on the day the barrier fell, leaving everything frozen in place. Post lamps still with flyers, bus stands with dated ads, cars abandoned on the streets, their tires stripped away and glass broken, sitting along lanes like carcasses left out to rot.

The breeze from the river had me wrapping my arms around myself. It was a balmy night, but compared to the stifling heat we came from, it was a big difference.

“Wow.” Annabeth’s voice caught on the wind when we stepped up to the river’s edge, her head turned to the side.

Following her attention, my mouth parted. “Wow…” I echoed her wonder, staring at the building across a square from us, looming high in the sky. Its spires dramatically spiked the air like the top of a crown. The structure rose above with grandeur, capping its white stone façade with a red dome cap. We gaped in awe at the architecture, feeling tiny in its presence.

Croygen gripped my hand, tugging me further into the shadows. “Look,” he whispered in my ear. My gaze lowered to a group of human soldiers marching around the front of the building, disappearing behind a half-built wall.

The splendor of the building had pulled my focus from noticing the small details and the set of guards securing the doors. A thick wall was being erected in front of this building, like it was trying to divide itself from the rest of the civilization. Carts, wagons, and old-fashioned pulleys were left, ready to be picked up tomorrow and start working again. Only a few lampposts burned through the section I could see, but the rest were dark, as if trying to conserve energy.

The atmosphere was odd, as if everything there was repurposed for something different, not fitting, and everything slightly off… as if time would rewind at any moment and everything would go back to the way it was.

Five years wasn’t enough for anything to feel normal yet, to feel like it had always been this way. Change was slow, but it crept on you until one day you almost forgot it had been different.

Survivors accepted and adapted to the times; the unwilling perished.

“Humans,” Cooper muttered to us.

“Still think I’ll try to avoid the automatic rifles,” Croygen mumbled in reply, his hand still on my lower back, his head darting around. “We need to figure out a plan. I don’t think marching into the fae leader’s palace and demanding the nectar is going to work.”

“You sure?” Cooper tipped an eyebrow. “I can be persuasive.”

Croygen snorted. “That’s my line.”

“What, you gonna sleep with the fae leader to get the nectar?” I cocked my head at him.

“Whatever I have to do.” He smiled smugly, needling me. “Jealous, Kitten?”

“Of you sleeping with a rich, successful, probably extremely good-looking fae man? Yes.”

Croygen’s top lip pulled up, his body moving closer to mine. “You’re just describing me, Kitty-Kat.”

“I said, rich and successful. Sorry.”

“So you think I’m extremely good-looking then?”

“I thinkyouthink you’re extremely good-looking.”

“And everyone I slept with—”

“Which is probably most of the population by now.”

“And you have the other half, Kitt—”

“Sprite spit, will you just put cream in her soda again?” Sprig poked out from Croygen’s pocket, climbing up to his shoulder. “Bury your treasure in her because I can’t sleep when I keep getting smacked in the head by your very long and girthy pirate plank.” Sprig motioned with his arms. “You’re making us allbananas… and you know how I feel about those. Ohhhh, but now I’m hungry. Can we get honey soufflé? Or maybe honey saffron rice?”

“Yeah, I’m sure they have those to take away down the street,” Croygen huffed.

“Really?” Sprig clasped his hands together with excitement.