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Wick nodded. His shoulders were still up around his ears, but his tail wasn’t whacking into her anymore.

Briar looked around. The only person who wasn’t charging through the town square with their head down or standing behind a stall yelling about mostly fresh meat was an elderly woman sitting on a bench at the other side of the square.

She was covered in so many robes that Briar could hardly see her face.

Briar led Wick over and gave the old woman a polite wave. “Hello! My husband and I heard about some beautiful flowers we can find in your town. Could you point us in the right direction? They look like this.”

She took Marigold’s sketch out of her pocket.

The elderly woman stared at it. She was so hunched it made Briar wince in sympathy.

The robes couldn’t help, Briar thought as she looked at the layers upon layers of robes piled over the woman’s head and shoulders.

Interestingly, the last layer was a thin golden mesh she hadn’t noticed until they got close.

“They are past the forsaken ravine at the edge of town,” the woman croaked. “It belongs to the mountain. We do not go there.”

“Oh.” Briar glanced up at Wick, who gave her a look that meant that no matter how forsaken it was, the ravine was easy enough to fly over.

“Hear that, honey? There go our flower dreams! Ah, well, thanks anyway.” Briar inclined her head and even gave the old woman a little curtsey, hoping she came off as an endearing foreigner unfamiliar with their customs instead of a dangerous idiot stranger who needed to be run out of town as fast as possible.

“Another question, if that’s alright,” Briar continued with a simpering little smile that she brought out when she wanted someone to think she wasn’t a threat. “My husband and I are looking for somewhere to stay tonight. Does this town have an inn? Or even just a room? We’ll only be the one night.”

The old woman stared. Not at her, Briar realized with a start, but at Wick.

Briar wished she could nudge him. Wick was the opposite of non-threatening, looming over everyone, even with the glamor. Even if he didn’t, he was so stiff he set Briar on edge just looking at him.

The old woman’s eyes widened. She pushed her robes off her head and rose, clutching a twisting cane in her unsteady hands as she stared at them.

Briar looked up at Wick, who looked back at her in panic. Could this old woman see past the glamor? Were they about to get found out?

“Or we can just leave,” Briar said, sensing trouble. “If there is no room. You folks probably don’t get many visitors?—”

The old woman cut her off. “My prediction has come to pass!”

The town square stilled. All the townsfolk who had been bustling past with their robes around their faces stopped and stared.

Briar stepped closer to Wick warily. Something brushed her other arm, and Briar forced herself not to react as Wick’s invisible wing closed around her protectively.

“Don’t do anything until I say,” Briar whispered. “There’s a lot of them, we don’t want?—”

The old woman cut her off again, her hands flinging out under her heavy robes.

“The couple who will fulfill the annual ritual has finally arrived,” she cried.

Briar stopped. That wasn’t what she had been expecting.

The old woman struggled toward them, every step an effort.

“It has been foretold,” she whispered. “Once a year, the mountain must be appeased. Finally, you come!”

“Ha ha,” Briar said loudly, unable to muster a real laugh yet. “What ritual are you talking about? No virgin sacrifices, I hope?”

“Void, no. Nothing like that.”

Briar sagged with relief. Wick’s wing loosened around her.

“You only have to join together in body,” the old woman continued. “In front of the town. As the ritual commands.”

Huh , Briar thought. Guess I wasn’t joking about the sex magic after all. Could’ve used a bigger heads-up, Marigold.

“Join together in body,” Wick repeated. “You mean we must mate?”

“You must join together until he spills inside you,” the old woman said. “And appease the mountain.”

Briar twisted to see the townsfolk around her. None of them looked like perverts who wanted to watch them fuck, but she’d been wrong about that sort of thing before. Briar started, “I don’t think?—”

“You will be richly rewarded,” the old woman said over her. “As the ritual commands.”

“I should consult my husband,” Briar announced.

She dragged Wick away and lowered her voice, all too aware of how many eyes were on them. “What are we thinking? And why do none of these things ever care about me finishing?”

“It is an oversight,” Wick agreed. “I heard you talk to your witch of sex magic. I thought you were joking.”

“I was ,” Briar hissed. “Marigold just said their magic was ‘intimate!’ That could’ve meant anything!”

She looked around the town again, her skin pricking with goosebumps under her thick robes. She hoped that wherever the ritual happened was heated.

“You wish to do it,” Wick said slowly.

“Of course, I want to do it! They said I’d be richly rewarded!

” Briar beamed. “I’m never going to see any of these mountain weirdos again.

Why not fuck in front of them? And save them from the…

mountain’s wrath, or whatever they think will happen if they don’t make strangers fuck in front of them once a year. ”

Wick grunted. “Then I will do it.”

“Great!” Briar clapped his arms, then paused. Wick was still stiff under her touch, and not in a fun way. “Are… are you sure? You don’t have to.”

Wick frowned. “I can do it. As long as the glamor holds.”

“Yeah, good point.” Briar thought about it. They would ideally need to do this sooner rather than later for the glamor to hold.

She turned back to the old woman. “When does this ritual happen?”

“When the sun is at its peak,” the old woman rasped. She pointed at the sky, where the sun was mostly blocked by the giant cliff in the way.

“Okay,” Briar said. “That works.”