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Snail looked up at her with his huge, round eyes, and blinked twice.

“Yer faerie, aren’t ye?” He creeped painfully slow in a loop, looking Heather up and down.

“Hmm, no wings though.” His head tilted to the left like a bird’s.

Heather lifted her skirts carefully and stepped out of the slime ring the snail formed around her.

“Welp… mayhap whoever placed the salt thought ye be faerie.” He nodded to himself, pleased with his reasoning. “I reckon I’m stuck here then. Salt be the death of me.”

“Well, I’m not faerie. Salt doesn’t affect me. I could carry you over the barrier. There’s a window across the room you could escape through.” Snail’s eyes trailed Heather’s hand as she pointed toward the broken window.

“How will ye get down from the table?” he pondered.

Heather squinted at Snail harder, as if it would clarify his thought process.

“Me? … I’m not going.”

Scoffing. “Why wouldn’t ye come along? Ye be a prisoner, salt wall an all.

” His eyes bunched together like a set of eyebrows on a human, befuddled.

Heather paused in retrospect and tidied her ribbon.

The king must have placed the salt as a line of defense, trapping her within.

But why? An uneasy feeling rooted deep in the pit of her stomach.

“I can’t leave.” Mae and Jessa were heavy on her thoughts.

And all the horrific possibilities that could befall her beyond her home.

She imagined what it would feel like to be stepped on.

She cringed. Bugs might consider her appetizing out in the wilds.

Memories of the physician mentioning leeches made her shudder.

No thank ye, she’d stay right here in her own cozy castle.

“But ye said the salt didn’t affect ye?” Snail squinted back at her in confusion.

Heather worried her bottom lip. “Oh, it’s not that. The salt poses no danger to me. But I have my reasons for remaining put.”

“Hmmm, ye do have marbles loose after all.”

Her patience was growing thin. Hunger pains sprouted in her stomach. It felt as though a drummer boy was playing on her head.

“Bah, you…thankless…” she almost uttered, “pile of goo,” but her mother’s face appeared in her mind’s eye. The woman was the epitome of kindness. What would she think? Sighing in defeat, she threw up her hands, “Don’t worry about me. Let’s focus on getting you to the other side of that border.”

Heather processed what he said before. “Do you know any faeries?” she questioned.

“Lots of ‘em. Buggers be flying all about.”

“Is there really a faerie tree?” She had to know.

“Of course, it’s as real as you and I.” And with that he dipped into his shell. Heather waited several heartbeats for him to reappear, but he remained sheltered within.

She rapped lightly on his shell. “Snail? ….” She garnered no response.

Heather considered the salt line. If she merely swiped the mineral to the side, a residue would remain, inflicting painful burns on Snail. But she didn’t want to have to touch him, his slime was revolting. She’d need to find means for his crossing without hands on assistance.

“Wait here but a moment.” she told his shell, hoping he heard.

Dashing to the castle, her booted foot sticking from snail muck all the way there.

Inside, she took the stone steps two by two until she reached one of the spare bedrooms. She pulled the blue coverlet from the bed and rushed out to the perimeter.

Heather bent to her knees to wipe a path through the salt.

“I’ll place this down and you can cross over.

” She spread out the blanket. Snail remained inside his shell.

It was as if she were speaking to herself…

and she realized that if he didn’t truly speak, she was speaking to herself, regardless.

She laughed under her breath. Mayhap madness was truly creeping in.

He emerged from his portable home, eyes cloudy. Appearing dazed, he blinked rapidly, clearing an invisible smoke from them.

“A word of advice for your service” … his words trailed off as his eyes widened.

“Never make yourself small, child.” Snail moseyed across the blanket, past the salt line, twisting his eyes to look back at her.

She drew in a shallow breath… how did he know that was precisely what she had been doing for well over a month as taste tester?

“Are you sure ye don’t want ta come with me youngin’?” He lowered one bulbous brown eye at her.

“Honestly, I doubt I would survive out there,” she admitted quietly. She watched on as he made his way over the edge of the table, his mucus defying gravity over the lip.

A stack of scrolls remained beyond the salt.

She kicked the rolled portion so that it unfurled across the tabletop, revealing a detailed illustration of the kingdom.

A thick, winding curve of black ink carved into the landscape.

The king’s highway. She walked along the surface of the map, tracing its path with her footsteps.

The road led from the market square to Irving, then to Sarsen, where the Standing Stones once stood proudly, before curving deep into the heart of the Wandering Wood. Heather’s stride faltered.

Jessa told Heather of the horrific fate of the stones and the people of Sarsen during her last night in their chamber. Was this to be the fate of the faerie wood?

She continued her steps, the road showing an intended path through the fabled faerie pools of Scintillare. So much of their people’s history and beliefs would be eradicated from their landscape if His Majesty’s plans came to fruition.

Should she ever place her ribbon on the mythical tree, she would need to do so soon, while it remained standing.