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“Protection from what?”

“People like you. So don’t try casting again. I trust you’ll enjoy your meal and not make us humans regret inviting you, right?”

A wooden bowl of soup appeared in my vision, offered by a scrawny boy, one of the youngest of the group. I took it with a weak smile, and then the wooden spoon he offered next. Peas and squash floated in a fennel-scented broth.

“We’re just looking for Kalcedon,” I said. I took a sip of the soup. It was delicious.

“So Oraik said.”

“Have you seen him? He’s gray, tall—”

“Save your breath, warder. You’re the first strangers we’ve seen in weeks. But you won’t find your friend.” She sounded certain. But what did she know?

“Of course we will,” I said fiercely.

Oraik turned to me. There was an empty bowl in front of him, and he was sat cross-legged like the rest of them.

“I told them what happened, and Bird started pointing a new direction. They think they know where he is.”

“A place no one should go,” Karema said. “You can stay with us instead, if you’d like. At least to the next town.” She eyed me warily.

“Why? What’s wrong with where we’re headed?” I took a bite of squash, just as Karema snorted, as if I should have known better than to ask such a foolish question. She leaned over, shifting her weight and propping herself up on a fist.

“The lords of faerie don’t take kindly to us mortals knocking on their door,” Karema drawled. “What they call a palace, we’re as like to call a tomb. I don’t know what they want with your fae ‘friend,’ but you’d be wise to think twice, if you’d like to keep being you.”

I already knew I was doing something foolish and difficult. Did she expect we’d just turn around and wander home, after everything we’d been through already? Was I supposed to be surprised there was danger here?

“I’m not going to abandon him just because you think it’s a bad idea,” I snapped. “I don’t care how you do things here. So unless you’d like to be helpful—” Oraik put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. I quieted.

“We’re their guests,” he reminded me softly.

“No, by all means.” Karema rolled her eyes. “Let your little witch-woman speak her mind. The way we do things here, warder, is we fight tooth and nail for every scrap of survival. We don’t hide behind Wards and keep out those who need safety. But going after a lost cause?” She tilted her head to the side and gestured with her hand, like tossing dice. “That risk’s not bravery. It’s idiocy.”

“If you’re human and you don’t like it, just cross the Ward,” I said, after a long moment of struggling to compose myself. “Enough with this ‘warder’ nonsense.”

“And die when you realize you’ve got a drop of faerie blood,” she said. “How far back does your family line go? Would you gamble your life on getting it right? And say you knew you could cross—would you leave your home? Your people?”

In the Protectorate it was easy to tell who did and didn’t have fae blood. Here, where heat filled the air, the faintest types of witch might never know. Especially if they had no knack for casting and couldn’t get the sigils quite right. She was right about tracing a family line, too. It had caused me no shortage of frustration that even my great-grandmother couldn’t tell me any details about our fae bloodline, or how many generations back it could be found.

Kalcedon’s mother must have been even more desperate than I’d thought, to risk the Ward.

“There must be a way to tell,” I said. “If I do a big casting and drain the area, I could let you know—”

“We aren’t looking for your help,” Karema said. “Enough of this. Eat. Tomorrow we head to the town of Erris.”

“I’m going to rescue Kalcedon,” I said stubbornly. “I’ll find a way.”

Karema’s eyes narrowed.

“Your Ward’s made you an idiot.”

“I’ve been called that plenty of times before. Might as well live up to it,” I said with a pained smile.

“All the sense of a rock-troll,” she added.

Oraik cleared his throat.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” he said. “It’s useful advice, I’m sure. I wasn’t expecting to find food and friendship here. Think what you like of us, but to me that is a cheering thought.”