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“We’re the first outsiders to step onto their land in thousands of years,” said Lucienne. “And then this happened. Can you blame them?”

“I don’t like this,” the giant said, his big hand on his gun. His other hand pulled two large pieces of luggage behind him. He jumped as something sprang from a house in the distance, only to return his weapon when it turned out to be two geese. A farmer dashed out, frantically drove the geese back into his yard, and slammed the door shut. A dog from a nearby house raised a howl, causing other dogs from neighboring houses to bark back in response. Abruptly, all the yelps ceased.

“This is science fiction turning to reality: in an advanced town, the islanders live backwards.” Ziyi kicked a twirl of dried leaves that the wind pushed across her path. “When there’s no need for a society to strive for better, it usually stagnates in the early stages of its evolu—”

“The king,” Vladimir warned.

In the distance, the king and his guards stormed out of the golden temple, stepping over the broken head of their god, and met Lucienne’s crew in the center of the marble square.

“Going for a walk, King Henry?” Lucienne greeted. “What a nice, cool day for a stroll.”

“It’s not nice!” King Henry spat. He and his guards were wearing blankets. “A curse has overcome my kingdom.” He gestured around the bleak town in dismay. “You must find the gods’ magic box and return it to us!”

“I’d like to question Ashburn’s folks first,” Lucienne said. “Perhaps you could point out the Fury house?”

The king eyed the luggage the group carried and insisted on accompanying Lucienne.

The façade of the Fury house was Victorian—a simple gray and blue house decorated with elaborate spindle work and jigsaw-cut bargeboards. Clement and Peder, the farmer couple Lucienne had met in Hell Gate, waited outside the door, trembling in the cold.

The king and his guards barged in first. Vladimir entered next, putting himself between the guards and Lucienne and Ziyi. The giant brought up the rear.

The furniture in the sitting room was simple cottage-style. The king occupied a seat at the head of an oak table, his guards standing behind him. Lucienne and her people chose to sit around a small tea table. Cam the giant stood guard near the Siren.

Clement went to prepare tea at the open wooden counter close to the king’s table. She poured hot water from a thermos into a clay pot. Her hands were shaking so much that she splashed water onto the counter.

King Henry barked at Clement, calling her stupid, useless, and then something nastier.

Peder knelt before the king. “I apologize for my wife’s clumsiness, Your Majesty. We’ve never had a guest in our house before. We don’t know the proper way.” He darted a fearful look at the giant, then at the king’s guards.

King Henry growled. “Shut your hole! I did not permit you to talk!”

“You don’t have to kneel in your own house, Mr. Fury.” Vladimir rose from the chair and helped the shaking farmer up. Then he went straight to help Clement with the tea.

Clement cringed when she saw Vladimir approaching. The thin blanket she wrapped around her shoulders swept a tea cup. The clay cup dropped to the floor with a clang and broke into pieces.

The king gestured to the guard closest to Clement. The guard lunged to strike her. His hand stopped a few inches from Clement’s face. Vladimir twisted the brute’s hand behind his back, bending the guard over, forcing him to groan in pain.

“Never ever lay a hand on a woman!” Vladimir said angrily. “Hasn’t your mother ever told you that?”

“The stupid wretch is the king’s subject,” the guard cursed. “We can punish any subject as His Majesty pleases.”

“Not the law in my world,” Vladimir said. “Now apologize to Mrs. Fury.”

The guard cursed again. “We don’t apologize to lowly—”

Vladimir added weight to his grip and the guard screamed. “Uggahh, you broke my wrist!”

“Apologize,” Vladimir said coldly, “or I’ll break the other.”

The king sat with his jaw set like a rock, but he knew better than to challenge Lucienne.

“Sorry, Mrs. Fury,” the guard said. “Now let me go.”

“Remember this:” Vladimir stared at the rest of the king’s guards. “You’ll never punish or disrespect anyone in the presence of Queen Lucienne without her consent.” He then shoved the guard away in disgust. “Hit Mrs. Fury again, I’ll break your neck.”

The king’s guards darted grim, uneasy looks toward Vladimir, then at the mountain of man. Cam glared back, ready to break a few necks.

In a mist of tears, Clement stole a glance at Vladimir. This time when he moved closer to help her with the tea, she didn’t draw back from him.