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I shake my head. “If you had, you’d understand.” If I was to survive in my father’s kingdom, I had to stay anonymous. That meant no leadership roles, no grand gestures of power, no valiant deeds. All I needed was to stick to the shadows and scheme out my revenge.

“What’s the issue with you today?” Malaki asks, searching my face.

I glance at him. Everyone who knows me understands I don’t freely share much about myself.

I draw my eyes away from him to squint off in the distance. “Today’s the anniversary of my mother’s death.”

A beat passes, then Malaki says, “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

I look off in the distance. “Nothing to apologize about.”

And with that, I take to the sky, my wings enchanted to look like those of a drab grey moth.

It’s only much later, after we’ve moved several crates of Memnos’s cursed waters to earth and returned to the Land of Nightmares, that Malaki and I have another chance to talk alone.

We wind through the streets of Memnos, the wilds of the island pressing in on all sides. Dark liquid slithers across the cobblestone road. I can feel the gazes of dozens of creatures who cloak themselves in the darkness.

“Care to stick around a little longer?” Malaki says. These are old stomping grounds for him. He lived on Phyllia, Memnos’s sister island, but from everything he’s told me, he spent most of his time here, running with monsters. “We can head over to Phyllia,” he continues, “where the women change faces and the ale never stops flowing.”

I’m not much in the mood to linger, nor am I all that interested in ale or women—despite the day’s earlier activities.

Malaki nudges me with his arm. “C’mon, Eurion. You’re in no shape to be alone.”

He’s right. If I had it my way, I’d sit in the darkness and think of all the ways I might kill my father.

A low chuckle comes from the dense foliage to my left. “Malaki Phantasia,” a creature steps out from the darkness, “it’s been awhile.”

I stare at the hobgoblin, with his pointed nose, and pointed chin, and the rows of pointed teeth that fill his mouth.

“Good fellow,” Malaki says, approaching the man with a smile. The two of them clasp hands. “I thought you had moved to earth.”

“I had.” The hobgoblin eyes me. “A witch banished me back here after I ate her familiar.” He picks at a tooth.

Malaki shakes his head. “Of all the luck …” The two men talk, and while they do so, I wander off the cobblestone road, stepping into the thick brush that presses against the pathway. There are things that hide in the wilds here, things that even fairies are scared of.

I don’t much care.

I move deeper into the forest. Dark pixies glow deep crimson and violet colors; they perch on branches, watching me. I hear the slick slide of scales over dead leaves and the howl of beasts better left alone.

I’ve heard so many cautionary tales about staying away from the woods here, but right now I don’t have it in me to fear this place.

From where I stand, the stars are all but invisible, cloaked by the dense foliage that greedily feeds off the darkness.

I can almost pretend the canopy above me is the arching ceiling of my cavernous home. And the haunted cries of banshees and wraiths I can almost imagine are my mother’s weary sighs.

“She was a brave one, hiding you like that.”

My head whips around.

Standing amongst the twisted trees is a beautiful woman, her silver hair hanging in spirals to her waist.

“Your mother,” she adds.

I furrow my brows, leaning back just a little. It’s not smart to trust the things that dwell in the forests of Memnos. Especially beautiful, dreadful things.

She smirks, picking her way towards me through the underbrush.

“Who are you?” I ask, my eyes flicking over her.