Oboe spent all night screaming inside her head because she couldn’t do it the normal way. She needed a chance to get away, a chance to get word to Theo. Grandmother didn’t give her that chance. Guards kept watch hover Oboe while Bassoon prepared her trap.

The marketplace was empty. She stood alongside a troop of Spriggan waiting for Theo and his knights to enter the Circle. The scouts said he was coming any moment now.

Épée gave Oboe a side eye glare. “You know what you need to do?”

“Yeah, I do!” Oboe said, angry about it. “Grandmother told me herself!” Her voice took a mocking tone. “Take the humans to the gazebo, my sweet pet! But oh, don’t you ever be friends with them! Humans are our play things! Blah, blah, blah!”

The fury sniggered. “Good impression. Foxglove can do her laugh perfect. Or she did, anyway.” Her face sobered. “She got caught, and our Lady had all her feathers ripped out. Bottom line, don’t get caught.”

Oboe scanned the rooftops, wondering if a Whisper was nearby. “Oh.”

Épée spread her wings. “We’ll get into position. Do not let the humans know what we’re up to.” The spriggans scattered, hiding by magic or by flight. Oboe sat by the well, dreading what would happen next. She wracked her brains, wondering what to do, but all too soon Theo arrived with a bunch of tired looking knights.

“Oboe?” His eyes lit up at the sight of her. He holstered a weird human doohickey to his belt. “I didn’t expect to see you here!”

She forced the biggest, most unnatural smile she could. “The fair lady got your letter!” Her eyes darted toward the furies on the roof top, trying not to look at them. “She sure did like it! She wants me to take you to the gazebo to meet her!”

“The Fair Lady is going to help us?” Theo said. “That’s fantastic!”

Oboe tried to shake her head without moving it, managing only to vibrate in terror. She spotted a Whisper watching them from atop the rooftop behind Theo.

He raised an eyebrow. “Is something wrong?”

Oboe resumed screaming internally. “I’m fine! Please follow me!!”

Theo signaled for the knights to proceed. They walked a short distance to a small garden park where they all entered the gazebo, which was rigged so thick with runes she hoped the humans could smell it.

“I’m sorry about arguing with you at the fountain,” Theo said. His face was pained. “Do we have time? We should talk. A lot has happened.”

“Now!!” Épée shrieked. A gnome in the bushes leapt out and set off the trap. Swirls of shifting magic coiled around the gazebo.

“What’s going on?!” The humans were freaking out. “What is this?!”

It was too late. Oboe hadn’t figured out a way to stop this from happening but she had to do something. Bassoon wanted them all dead. Without thinking, she jumped inside the gazebo while the spell was unfurling.

Space unfolded and refolded around them, throttling them and churning their stomachs. Oboe imagined this was how an accordion felt when it was played. When the world felt normal again, everything had changed. The marketplace was gone. The spell had cut the whole gazebo out of space and planted it in the labyrinth.

“What just happened?!” Theo said, dazed.

“Where are we?” One of the knights shouted.

“Now!”

Spriggan leapt out from the shadows; Nymphs and furies armed with bronze daggers. The knights on their feet made to unsheathe their swords. One managed to dodge an incoming stab, but was grabbed from behind. There was a pop of magic, and the knight shrank away. His armor collapsed into a heap and a rabbit crawled out from the mess.

“Don’t let them touch you!” The knight leader said, swinging her sword to keep the spriggans at bay. There were too many of them. Her sword was knocked out of her hand and a pooka managed to sneak up and touch her. Her body froze in place, elf shot. The spriggan fell on the humans like a pack of wolves.

Theo backed away from the brawl, eyes wide, staring at Oboe. “Why?!”

Oboe’s face hung long. Theo was going to die. She grabbed him by the shoulders, eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry.”

Her magic pulsed through her hands. A sick, guilty convulsion of pleasure hit her as Theo vanished. His uniform fell to the floor in a heap.

Two of the humans were dead. Ripped up with knives. The rest were lucky enough to be enchanted, though Oboe was scared about what came next.

“Is that all of them?” The nymph captain said. A brown rabbit dangled at her side, gripped by the ears.

“Unhand us you demons!” The former human flailed, trying to get free, and made a valiant but useless effort to scuff the spriggan’s armor. “The King will hear of this!”

“We’re missing one,” the pooka said, sniffing at Theo’s clothes. He looked up at Oboe. “Where is this one?”

Oboe cupped her palm gently behind her back. “I don’t know.”

“I saw you transform him.” He narrowed his eye.

“I turned him into a bug,” Oboe said. She gnawed at the inside of her cheek. “He flew away before I could stop him!”

“Hah!” Said one the paralyzed humans. “He’s gone to tell the capital you’re all traitors! The King will send a whole army! They’ll make you pay for this!”

“It doesn’t matter.” The nymph Captain bent down and picked up the aura tracker out of Theo’s things. She smashed it against the wall. “No one escapes the labyrinth.” She turned to her troop. “Oxnard and Dandelion! You two get the captives into cages. I want the rest of you to comb the maze for this other one! Our Lady will want all the humans accounted for. Sooner we get this done, sooner we can leave.”

Oboe slipped away while the troop was exchanging bows, and hurried down dank stone corridors as fast as she could until she was sure she was alone. Under the faint glow of the labyrinth’s walls, she opened her hand to find a little worker ant.

“Oboe?” He looked up at her, wriggling his antennae. He scuttled around her hand shaking his head. “W-what’s going on? Why am I an insect?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “My magic likes beasts and birds. I wanted something small. It’s weird it picked a bug for you!” She would’ve expected at least a drone, not a worker ant. It was so odd.

“That’s not what I meant!” His tone was angrier now. “Why did you do this to me!?”

Oboe winced. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” She slumped against the wall and pulled her hair with a free hand. “This is all I could think of to keep you safe! I’ve made so many mistakes and now you’re here and I’m not sure what to do! I need to get you out of here so grandmother doesn’t kill you!”

“What? Your grandmother? Why would the Fair Lady do this?!”

“Theo, the Fair Lady is Whisper! I should’ve told you right away, but I didn’t! She’s the one who tried to kidnap Percy! And she’s doing other bad stuff too! She’s got a whole Feymire army here! She’s going to attack the capital!”

Theo froze, staring at her. “Are you serious? Whisper is…” He shook his head. “An entire foreign army? Here in the Circle?”

“I saw them!” Oboe said. “Grandmother told me she wants them to take over so she can get lots of Fates!”

“How long have you known all this?” Theo said. “Why were you helping her?”

Why did he have to ask? “I… Theo. I messed up. I wanted to be with my family so bad. Grandmother is wicked, and awful, and she made me think I should be wicked too! But you were right. I can’t just ignore bad things because she’s family!”

Theo fell quiet. The quiet was worse than if he was yelling. She wished he would yell.

“I can’t believe this,” he said. “I thought you were smarter than this.”

“I’m an idiot, okay?!” Oboe said. “I wanted to fix everything before telling you, but that was an even bigger mistake! I ruined everything like I always do! I’m sorry!”

“Stop it.” Theo’s voice was firm. How could such a little bug seem so big? “Apologizing won’t fix anything. This is serious. You’re telling me the Fairy Circle is harboring an invasion force. We need to get out of here so we can warn the capital.”

He was right, but Oboe was still worried that he hated her. She tried to calm down. “Okay.”

“We seem to be out of harm’s way,” Theo said. “Can you change me back to normal?”

Oboe remembered what happened the last time she used her magic a bunch in the palace. “I can’t! Grandmother will sense it and find us! We should get you out of here first!”

“I have to stay like this?!” Theo said. “Is this a trick? Are you just trying to take my Fates?!”

“No!” Oboe was horrified. “I couldn’t let them kill you! I’m sorry! I hate this too, but it’s just for a little while. Please! You have to trust me!”

A silence lingered. Oboe held her breath. Was he angry? Ants were difficult to read. He had every right to be angry.

“You’re right,” Theo said. “I know you aren’t wicked. I’m sorry. If Whisper is the Fair Lady, it all makes sense. I knew she was a fairy plotting to usurp the throne. I know how much you wanted to be with your family. Of course Whisper would take advantage of that. This is her fault.”

“…Theo…” Relief washed over her. She didn’t deserve him.

“We need to focus on getting out of here,” he said. “Do you know a way out?”

Oboe glanced down the dim, twisting corridors. “I’ve never been here before.”

“I have,” Theo said. He marched circles in Oboe’s palm, thinking. “I know Épée has a whistle that lets her enter and leave, but I don’t like our odds of stealing it off her.”

“But is there anything else we can do?” Oboe said. “She said there’s no way to escape.”

He looked up. “There might be. When I came here before, I ripped a tear in the fold. It might still be there.”

“This place is a maze!” Oboe said. “How are we going to find it again?”

“We’re going to have to try,” Theo said.

Theodore held on as Oboe ran through archways and down glowing stone tunnels. He thought he recognized some land marks, torture devices and cell blocks, but the way they connected didn’t stay consistent. Out in the Whirlwood, folds in space had patterns and rules. If he could just get a handle on how the paths changed, he could map it out in his head.

Oboe cantered to a halt and growled in frustration. Another dead-end wall blocked her path. “I hate this place! Nothing makes sense!”

“Quiet,” Theodore said. Footsteps echoed behind them. “Do you hear that?”

She peeked around the corner to look the way they came. “Spriggan,” she said. “A fury, a nymph, and a leshy. What do we do?! They’re coming this way!!”

There was nowhere to go. “Act natural,” Theodore said. “Pretend you’re looking for me.”

Nodding, Oboe stepped out into the wide center chamber. The three spriggan charged towards her.

“You!” The leshy said. “Stay where you are!”

“The scent is strong,” the fury said. “She has the human.”

The nymph held out his hand and conjured a sword of jagged glass. “Hand him over, or else!”

“No!” Oboe said, hiding Theo behind her back. “You can’t take him!”

Well, that didn’t take long. As the spriggan closed in with their weapons, Theodore scuttled up Oboe’s arm and into her mane.

“Run!” he said.

Oboe tried to make a break down the hallway, only for the fury to cut her off with twin daggers in hand. “I don’t think so!”

The leshy came from behind and pounded Oboe in the side with a mace. Theodore clung to her hair as she fell to the floor. The leshy leaned over her, tapping his weapon into an open palm. Theodore climbed down to her ear.

“His feet! Kick his feet!” he said.

Without hesitation, Oboe bucked the leshy in the ankles and sent him tumbling across the room. His mace clattered to the floor beside Oboe.

“Grab it!”

Oboe lunged for the weapon while the other two were startled. Theodore held on as she jumped to her feet. The remaining guards crept closer from the front and the back.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The nymph said. “The Lady will have you killed for this!”

Theodore studied their opponents. Their stances and grip were terrible. He remembered his father’s training. How he battered Theodore’s hands and legs with a practice sword to show him how much form mattered. Oboe could win this. She just needed to know how.

“Bait the nymph to attack. Stay clear. Aim for the wrists. You can disarm her!”

She gaped. “When did you learn how to fight?!”

“Oboe! Now!!”

With a nod, Oboe feinted. She jumped back as the nymph swiped with her longsword. The mace came down hard on the nymph’s sword grip. She howled in pain. Oboe followed with a blow to the gut, and sent her opponent crashing down.

“Behind you!” Theodore shouted.

The fury lunged, daggers out. Oboe heard Theodore. She bolted forward and spun around to see the fury chasing after.

“What do I do?!” Oboe was shaking.

“Keep your distance! She’s fast, but her range is short.”

The fury swiped and stabbed, but Oboe put everything into dodging. There was no chance to counter attack, she was too quick. Theodore wracked his brain for a strategy. Oboe did not have the experience to parry or riposte.

“Tell me what to do!!” Oboe said.

“The sword!” Theodore said. She needed a longer weapon. “Get the sword!”

The leshy jumped out of the shadows and grabbed Oboe. He had recovered from the kick.

“Got you, traitor!”

The fury barreled towards them with a hungry smile. Oboe pulled the leshy off his feet and used his body as a shield. The daggers sank into his flesh. He screamed, and his arms fell limp. Oboe pulled herself free and ran past the fury before she yanked her blades free.

“Fig!!” The fury said, as her cohort fell in her arms. “You idiot! You damned stupid idiot! Why did you let that happen!!”

Oboe grabbed the sword off the floor, but the nymph’s hands were still tight around it.

“I’m not through with you yet…!” The nymph let out a moan. Oboe bashed her in the back with the mace. She croaked with pain, and Oboe took her weapon. Theodore cringed, wishing it wasn’t necessary.

The leshy collapsed to the floor. The fury stood over the body and turned. Eyes like fire.

“I’m going to kill you!” She said.

Theodore’s head was swimming. The fury should not have pulled her daggers free. The leshy was going to bleed out of control. He was going to die.

“Theo!!” Oboe said, backing away. “Help me!!”

Theodore flicked his antennae and forced himself to focus. “Okay,” he said, whispering. “Do not let her get close. You have a range advantage! Attack only when she can’t attack back! Lunge from as far as you can!”

This was easier said than done. The fury came screaming at Oboe, talons scraping against the stone. She swiped just to keep the fury at bay, but she was relentless. Her daggers whistled through the air and Oboe was getting backed into a corner. Theodore saw their chance when the fury’s breathing grew labored.

“The wings!” Theodore said. “There’s no armor on the wings!”

Oboe cleaved a clean cut straight through the fury’s arm, scattering feathers in the air. She shrieked, and kept coming with her good arm. Oboe struck true again, and knocked the remaining blade free of the spriggan’s hand. The fury clutched her bloodied arms to her chest, wings wrapped around her like a blanket. Oboe stood over her, weapon ready.

“N-no! Please!” The fury’s voice faltered. She looked at her fallen comrade, eyes full of fear. “I yield! Let me go!”

Feather fragments cascaded through the air like snow. Blood pooled on the floor. Theodore remembered the light fading from Ella’s eyes. Oboe pulled the sword over her head to bring it down on the last spriggan in their way.

“Oboe! Stop!!” He said. “Don’t hurt her!”

She did not lower the sword. “She’ll warn the others!”

“I don’t care!” Theodore said. “No one else has to die! We’re done here!”

Hesitating, Oboe lowered the blade. She took a deep breath. “Okay.” She grimaced at the fury, and searched the bodies. It was just their luck, none of them had a fold whistle. Oboe stood up. “Go get some help for your friends, and leave us alone.”

The fury said nothing. Oboe marched past the three soldiers, her hooves clicking on the stone floor.

“We’ve gone this way already,” Theo said.

Oboe stumbled to a halt, short of breath from running up and down hallways. “What? How can you tell??” Every gloomy room of the labyrinth looked the same. At least they hadn’t run into any more spriggans.

She felt him crawl to a better vantage point in her hair. “We passed those gibbets earlier. The blood stains are the same.” He dangled on her furrowed brow. “This isn’t working. We’re not getting any closer to the tear.”

The sword drooped in her hand. “It’s not my fault! I’m going where you’re telling me, but everything keeps changing! I don’t know what to do!”

“It’s not anyone’s fault,” Theo said. “We need a better plan to get out of here.”

Oboe tried to think. “If we fight more Spriggans, one of them has to have a fold whistle. We can use that to escape.”

“Out of the question!” Theo said. “We’re not going to pick fights! It’s too dangerous.”

“We can take them!” Oboe said, posing with both hands on the sword. “We did awesome!”

There was an icy silence before Theo said anything.

“No. We’re not hurting anyone else.”

“But they’re trying to get us!” Oboe said.

“That’s not who I am!” Theo shouted. “That’s not how we do things! Our duty is to protect creatures and keep order! We aren’t going to hurt anyone!”

He was so mad. “Theo. Are you okay?”

“No!” His voice choked. “I’m not! This is…” He buried himself in her mane. “Oboe, I killed someone! I took a sword and I killed someone! Just like my father! Just the way he taught me!”

“What?” She picked Theodore out of her mane with care and held him up in her palm. “Who? What happened?”

He wouldn’t look at her. “A fairy spy. A doppelganger. She… I found one of Whisper’s feathers. She attacked. And…”

“Oh.” She shook her head. “Then, it’s not your fault. It’s fine.”

He looked up. His antennae were flailing. “Fine?! I cut her open with a sword and watched her die! That is not fine! I killed her!”

All Oboe felt was grateful that Theo survived. She didn’t care if some wicked fairy spy was killed. That’s not how Theo felt, though. She had never heard him sound this upset. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. You did what you had to.”

“You’re wrong.” His tone dropped like a brick wall. “There’s always another way. There has to be!”

Oboe took a deep breath. She wasn’t used to Theo being this emotional. It wouldn’t do any good to get worked up along with him. She needed to listen. “Okay. So, we can’t fight our way out. What else can we do?”

Asking him to think seemed to calm Theo. He paced in her hand. His little legs tickled. “I remember there being a brazen bull and some racks near the tear. Or there were, anyway. If we mind the land marks, there’s a chance we can get back to it. But if this place is changing, we can’t be sure the land marks will stay reliable. If I could just see how things were changing, maybe I can make sense of it.”

It wasn’t quite seeing, but Oboe had something that might be close enough. She pressed her hand to the wall. Concentrating, she could feel the ebb and fold of the magic in the labyrinth. “If I tell you which way things are changing, do you think can navigate better?”

“Yes.” Theo said, confident. He was almost back to normal. “Okay. We can do this. We just have to work together and get out before they find us.”

Oboe hurried. She ran her fingertips along the slick cold walls, and Theo told her which way to go. He’d spot something, a blood smear or a familiar cage, and tell her which path to take. She’d tell him when the hallways contorted, which way they were bending.

“Try turning right up ahead,” Theo said.

“It’s curving like a horse shoe that way,” Oboe said.

“Then keep straight next. Let me know when a path bends the other way.”

Somehow Theo kept it all in his head. He had a big brain, even when he was a tiny bug. After many more loops and turns, they found rooms they hadn’t seen before to explore.

“That wall!” Theo said, almost falling out of her hair. “Try stepping through it!”

Oboe wasn’t sure why he was so excited, but touched it anyway. The wall rippled and vanished when she pressed her fingers against it. She stepped inside and found a scorched chamber, with a blinding light hanging in the air.

“There!” Theo said. “That’s the tear!”

The wall was torn like ripped quilt. Beyond was the shining walls of the upper palace. Oboe jumped through.

“Wait!” Theo said, but it was too late.

It took several blinks before Oboe’s eyes adjusted back to the brightness of the surface.

“You were a fool to throw away my forgiveness, daughter.”

Bassoon stood in front of her, hands folded with a smile. Oboe wheeled around to see an entire regiment of spriggan surrounding her.

“That’s her!” the fury said, her arm wrapped in bandages. “She’s the one that turned on us!”

Oboe made a break for the door, but was cut off by rows of pointed spears. She readied her sword, eyeing for another way out.

“I don’t think so.” Bassoon flicked her wrist, and the conjured sword evaporated in Oboe’s hands. Her arms were wrenched back as spriggans piled on her. Oboe swung to throw them off, but more piled on until she was pinned down. She thrashed on her knees, grunting and growling, unable to pull herself free. Iron shackles were forced onto her wrists, and Oboe felt the magic inside her fall silent.

“The human too,” Bassoon said. “No more mistakes!”

Oboe felt Theo crawl deeper into her hair. He was smart enough to keep quiet. “He’s not here!” She said. “He’s already gone! He’s going to tell everyone your awful plans!”

The Fair Lady rolled her eyes. She snapped her fingers and Oboe felt Theo shoot out of her mane. He spun, floating and squirming through the air until he hung in front of Bassoon. With a tap, Theo fell naked to the floor in his true body. It startled Oboe to see him without his clothes. He was so slender, pale and hairless. The scars across his chest reminded her how easy it would be for him to die.

He groaned. “…Oboe?” The spriggan seized him before he could come to his senses.

“Don’t hurt him!” Oboe said. She lurched as Bassoon yanked her chains.

“What am I to do with you?” Bassoon sidled along the length of the chain to peer down at her granddaughter. “I offer you your name, a place at my feet, and still I catch you conspiring against me.” She sighed, and handed the chain to her spriggan. “My mercy is wasted on you. It seems the old wisdom is still best. No good can come from a bad seed.”

“Let us go!!” Oboe shouted as she was dragged out into the grand hall of the palace alongside Theo. She wrestled with her shackles, but it was no use.

Bassoon smirked. “Why should I, when I can make examples of you?” She gestured toward the upper floors overlooking them. Crowds of Titled fairies watched with mixed emotions from the balconies above. Fife was among them.

“My fair folk.” Bassoon spread her arms wide. Oboe and Theo were forced onto their knees on either side of her. “There is no more need for alarm. The intruders, and the traitor, have been captured. It is time to decide how their stories end.”

“You’re the traitor!” Theo said. “We have been allies for a thousand years, but you mean to stage a coup!”

Bassoon struck Theo across the face, knocking him down. Oboe winced as he rolled across the marble floor, trailing a trickle of blood. “Do not presume to speak, human. You kneel in the Court of the Fey. We are the Third Born! The Mother’s last and perfect children. Made to punish humanity. You are our prey, and nothing more.”

“No!” Oboe stood up. “Shut up! I’m sick of you!” Their lives were in danger. She needed to stop, but she couldn’t. “Humans are creatures, just like us! You don’t get to hurt them just because you want to! I never should’ve listened to you! You’re wicked, and you made me wicked too! The sort of wicked all the humans are scared of! We could all be friends, REAL friends! But we can’t because of terrible, rotten people like you!!” Oboe looked up toward the Titled. “Bassoon wants to invade the capital! There’s a whole army waiting! You need to stop her!”

The Titled did not so much as murmur. Bassoon chuckled.

“Please!” Oboe searched their faces, but found no concern. “We don’t have to be like her! We can’t let this happen!”

“What is this prattle?” Bassoon wrapped her hands around Oboe’s shoulders, nails biting into her shoulders. “Do you think you can turn a single one of them against me? Look at them. Every one of them owes me their comfort, their luxury. They will do nothing.”

Oboe’s eyes found Fife’s. She begged him without words. He held her gaze, and then turned away. Her heart broke.

“They are better than loyal,” Bassoon said. “They are afraid.”

Her fingers twisted, and ripped Oboe’s mantle off her body. The crowd recoiled in disgust, and all the shame of being nameless flooded back.

“This fairy has no name!” Bassoon spoke to the nobles. “She is no fey, but a curse! There is no place in the Circle for this one! May she only know scorn and suffering!”

It was no easier hearing the words a second time. She shouldn’t care. It shouldn’t have stung, but it did. Oboe let out a shaky breath. Bassoon strutted out in front of her, and Theo was forced onto his knees.

“I will pass my judgment.” Bassoon said. “A clean death is too good for them. They will be tortured until their bodies give out. Then their bodies will be hung in this hall, to serve as reminder of why no one may cross the Queen of the Fairies.”

“My lady.” Épée crept closer. “It will take time to stitch the hole in the labyrinth. Do you want a guard posted to prevent another escape?”

Bassoon waved the spriggan Captain away. “There is no need of that. Have them taken to my chambers.” She ran a finger along Theo’s bleeding cheek. “I’d like to savor this.”

Theodore shivered, feeling a chill on his bare skin. It made him wonder about what happened to his clothes. It bothered him knowing he was going to die here without first returning his uniform to the Laien government supply warehouse. Annual inventory was coming next month and the numbers would be off by one. It would be all his fault. He pulled against his shackles, yanking the chains taut, but it was no use.

The air was sweet with oils and perfume. He had to squint through his loose hanging hair. The world was a soft haze without his glasses. Somehow, the ant eyes Oboe had given him were better than his real ones. Even so, Bassoon’s bed chamber was grander than anything he had seen in the palace. A vibrant, white heaven of alabaster pillars and hanging silks. It was marred only by the old blood stains caked into the floor at his feet.

Oboe thrashed against the opposite wall, chains rattling, her breathing ragged. Where did she find the strength? The iron made her weak like him.

“Please stop,” he said. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!!” Oboe said. “She’s not going to get away with this! I’ll punch her! Right in her big evil face! I’ll make her regret everything!”

“We need to stay calm and think of a plan,” Theodore said. Though he was at a loss on how to turn this hopeless situation around. If he had his hairpins he could try to pick the lock, but they were lost somewhere in the labyrinth along with his pants. “You won’t have the energy to fight if you keep this up.”

“I don’t know what else to do!!” Oboe stomped her hooves. “This is all my fault! It’s always my fault! Because I’m stupid! I spent my whole life wanting grandmother to love me, but she’s the worst creature in the world! I let her trick me, and then I ruined everything!”

Theodore glared. “Stop it. You’re not the one to blame. She tricked both of us. What matters is that you stood up to her. If you hadn’t done that, I’d be dead. Thank you.”

Oboe choked back a sniffle. “Theo…”

“We’re going to get out of this, okay? We’ll expose her for what she is and stop the invasion. But I need you stay calm and sharp, alright?”

She nodded. “Okay. You’re right. But how can we escape?”

Theodore gave a blank stare. He tugged at his shackles again. “Uh.” He had no idea. He scanned the room, trying to spot anything of use. Bassoon had hung the torn remains of Oboe’s mantle on a nearby silk veil in plain sight between them. Theodore assumed she did this to torment Oboe.

“Does your mantle have a pin clasp?” He said.

“Huh?” Oboe said. “It does. Why?”

It wasn’t an ideal lock pick, and he wasn’t even sure how he would use it with his hands bound, but it would have to do. The mantle itself was far out of reach, but it was attached to a curtain that ran across the room. Theodore pushed against his chains and reached for the edge of the curtain. His fingers brushed against it. He tried to stretch, feeding as much chain through the wall bolt as he could to give one arm more range. Lunging, on his third try he managed to snap a hold on a bit of cloth between his fingers. It was enough to get better grip, and then tear the silk down from its hangers. The mantle fell to the floor with a soft fwump.

“You did it!” Oboe said. Now Theodore just needed to reel it in.

The door burst open. Startled, Oboe and Theodore turned and saw Bassoon storming into the room.

“What did you do?!” The Fair Lady said, furious.

Theodore dropped the curtain, eyes wide, and offered a feeble smile. The Fair Lady strode past him, ignoring him, and leered at Oboe.

“Explain yourself, you wretch! What did you do?!”

“We’re just trying to escape!” Oboe said. “Give me a break! What did you expect us to do??”

“No!” Bassoon grabbed Oboe by the hair and bashed her head against the wall. She yelped in pain and Theodore clenched his teeth.

“I’m through playing games with you, child! The sword! Where is it?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Oboe said.

“Did you think you could lie to me?!” Bassoon said, and lifted her mantle. Carved across her chest was a scar, glowing a hot angry white. “Did you think you could remove the sword without my noticing? Did you think you could kill me this way?” Oboe shrieked as Bassoon tore a handful of hair from her mane. “Think again. Tell me how you managed this, or I will make you the next sacrifice!”

“Leave her alone!” Theodore said, struggling against his chains.

“Wait your turn,” Bassoon said, sneering. “Daughter, this is your last chance. Tell me where the sword is, or I promise that I will make you suffer.”

Oboe glared back. “I told you! I don’t know!”

Before Bassoon could lash out again, a troop of nymphs came to the door.

“My Queen.” Their leader bowed. “The spriggan are on alert as you commanded. Also, the Feymire commander is requesting to speak to you again.”

“I could care less what that blowhard wants,” Bassoon said. “Tell him that if he wants to attack the capital so badly he can do it without our help. That will shut him up. He knows a direct assault on the wall is suicide. I don’t have time to babysit him right now. Our priority is finding the sword.”

“Yes, my Queen.”

“I’m going to the scrying pool to divine its location.” Bassoon gestured towards Theodore and Oboe. “I want a torturer brought to twist a confession out of these two. Report any news to my Whispers, understood?”

The spriggan beat their chests and got to work. The Fair Lady turned to face Oboe.

“How very clever you must think you are. Yet in the end it will not matter. I will find it again, and once I do, I will introduce you to a world of pain you could never have imagined.”

Theodore watched as Bassoon swept out the door into the hall, leaving them with the promise of suffering to come.

The torturer set down his toolkit on the floor. It opened like a tackle box to reveal an array of polished scalpels, pliers, and serrated tools organized with care. Theodore’s heart raced at the sight of the implements. They needed to get out of here, but the nymph guard had kicked away Oboe’s mantle before he had a chance to get ahold of it.

“This really is quite peculiar,” the torturer said. He was a tiny gray gnome dressed in a black cloak. “Our Lady usually prefers to do her own interrogation work. The situation must be very serious indeed! I don’t envy the guard responsible for this screw up. I’ll be seeing them later, if you get what I’m saying!”

He paused, as if expecting a laugh. When none came, he sighed and set up a ladder in front of Oboe. She was quiet, her face was angry but resolute. The gnome sparked a magic fire in his palm and used it to heat a knife. Oboe tensed, but did not show any fear.

Theodore wracked his brains for another way to escape but could not think of anything. Maybe the panic was getting to him, or maybe there wasn’t a way out. He wanted to think Oboe had a secret plan she hadn’t told him about, but he was certain she was telling the truth. She didn’t know and neither did he. Had one of the knights escaped? He hadn’t told them anything about the sword. What was going on?

“Welp, no time like the present!” The gnome scaled the ladder and pointed the knife at Oboe. “Would you say that you are attached to your belly button? I find most of my clients miss it a lot more than they expect!”

“Stop!” Theodore said. “I’ll tell you whatever you want! Just leave her alone!”

“Let’s not rush this,” the torturer said. “No one will believe the intel if you’re not maimed at least a little.”

Oboe glared but said nothing. Theodore watched, helpless, as the gnome leaned in with his knife. A scream.

The guard at the door fell forward. Her body petrified before crumbling to ash. A faun stepped through the door, dragging a sword after him.

“Fife!?” Oboe said, her eyes lighting up.

“What the?!” The gnome reared around to see what happened. Oboe took the opportunity to kick the ladder out from under him. It clattered to the floor and sent him rolling. The faun, Fife, swung the sword again at the torturer but his strike was so weak and sluggish that the gnome managed to dart between his legs and out the door.

“Dammit,” Fife said. He limped closer, looking exhausted. “Now we’re got even less time.” He chopped at Oboe’s chains. The glow running through them faded and in one breath Oboe looked revitalized. She tore off her bindings while Fife freed Theodore.

“What are you doing here??” Oboe said.

“There will be more spriggan coming,” Fife said. “Save the talking for later.”

“You’re… Oboe’s brother.” Theo said.

Fife thrust the sword into Theodore’s hands. “Take this. Destroy it. The Fair Lady is afflicted with the vorpal magic from this blade. She has stalled its affect by sealing the spell inside others, but if you melt the sword down the spell will be freed and she will die.”

“How did you get this?!” Theodore said.

“You two managed to provide an excellent distraction.”

“This was stuck inside a leshy,” Oboe said. “Does that mean…”

There was a flicker in Fife’s eye. He looked away. “What’s important is you take this and get away now.”

“Why are you helping us?” Oboe asked.

His shoulders sagged. “I don’t want to make the same mistake twice. I don’t want to abandon you. You’re right about Bassoon. She should not be in power. I’m going to take my girls and flee the Circle. I’m counting on you two to stop her.”

Oboe pulled her brother into a hug. “Fife…”

“We’re wasting time!” He pushed her away. “Get out of here before they come back! You have to escape!”

“Oh, it’s too late for that.”

The doors swung shut. The sky outside the balcony grew black as a cloud of ravens swarmed into the room. Oboe, Theodore and Fife flailed in the storm of pecking, scratching birds as Bassoon stepped back into the room from the balcony.

“I’ve already found you.”

The Whispers fell like a plague. Theodore fought to protect his face and eyes as beaks and talons tore his bare skin.

“The door won’t open!” Fife said. Oboe threw her shoulder into it, grunting and straining, but it made no difference. They were cut off. A magic barrier shimmered just outside the balcony.

“How interesting.” Bassoon stepped towards them, veiled by the storm of wings. “Fife Legato. YOU took the sword? You’re nothing but a glorified clerk! You presume to oppose your Queen?”

Fife recoiled at being called out, but looked at Oboe. “I won’t let you harm my sister!”

Bassoon smirked. “I never realized you had a spine. Allow me to fix that.” She waved a hand, and a book case hurled itself at them from across the room. Fife threw out his arm and a translucent dome of magic formed around them. The book case exploded to splinters against the makeshift shield.

“Deputy!” Fife winced as ravens tore at his spell. “Use the sword! You need to slay the Fair Lady!”

Theodore’s grip on the weapon shook. His heart pounded. Visions of pooling blood flooded his mind. He stared at the broken blade. “I can’t!”

“You have to!” Fife said, straining to hold his shield up. “She’s going to kill us!”

“We can’t use it!” Oboe said. “You know how to fight! You showed me!”

Bassoon’s arm punched through the barrier like paper. She grabbed Fife by the throat. The spell failed and the ravens poured in.

“Pathetic.” The Fair Lady lifted Fife into the air. “Even as a traitor you’re useless. Let me give you a more fitting form.”

Writhing in her arms, Fife shrank away into a tiny worm. “There.” Bassoon laughed, and dropped him onto the floor.

“Fife!” Oboe moved to grab him, but dozens of ravens swept in to attack her. She shrieked and struggled to fight them off. Bassoon turned her attention towards Theodore. Helpless, he pointed the sword.

“My, how nostalgic.” Bassoon crept closer. Theodore adjusted his stance as she circled him, trying to remember every technique, Ella’s dying eyes blotting it all out. “You think you can kill me with that sword? You want to finish what your father started?” She bared her teeth through a manic smile. “I have lived for a thousand years. I have lost count of how many I have cut down. Just try it.”

Her left side was open. Theodore pivoted his foot and lunged, blade forward. Her posture shifted. Time crawled. He knew he had made the wrong move. She sidestepped the lunge. He needed to answer, to follow through, but his body wouldn’t listen. All he could think about was his father standing over him, covered in blood, as little Theo cried in the depths of Crookhole Mine.

Bassoon swatted her palm and knocked the sword clean out of Theodore’s hand by the flat of the blade. The sword slid across the floor to the far end of the room. Before he could blink, Bassoon’s fist came down on Theodore’s head like a mace. His head swam, his knees gave out, he fell.

The whole world went numb. His vision went unfocused. The only thing he could make out was the voices.

“Do you see your champion, daughter? The brave pawn you wagered could slay a Queen? Tell me: What does he mean to you, that you threw everything away for him?”

“Leave him alone!” Oboe said, her voice breaking.

“He’s worth more to you than your family, then? Worth more than your Queen?” Her hooves clipped across the floor.

Theodore tried to shake himself from his stupor. He pushed to stand, but couldn’t tell whether up was down. Blinking his vision back, his eyes cleared in time to see Bassoon wrap a tattered silk cloth around his neck. It was Oboe’s mantle.

“I want you to watch what you’ve made me do, daughter.”

She tightened the cloth into a knot. Theodore grabbed at his neck, wrestling to pull himself free, but it was no use. He gasped for breath. It was crushing his throat.

“No!!” Oboe shouted.

Bassoon only laughed. Theodore kicked, trying to think of a way out, but his mind was growing fainter. On the brink of blacking out, there was a roar. A muffled rumbling. The Whispers were screaming. The silk went slack. Something in the room had shifted. Theodore summoned the last of his strength to force his eyes open again.

It was massive. A behemoth. Something between a bull and a bear. Great pointed horns and pointed teeth. Claws scraping against the marble floor. It foamed at the mouth, snarling and furious.

“LEAVE THEO ALONE!!”

Oboe bellowed as she smashed through the furniture, shrugging off the ravens as she charged at Bassoon. Grandmother dropped Theo. She held her arms up to protect herself as Oboe slammed a fist into her, and sent that hateful old cow tumbling into the far wall.

Oboe felt big. Bigger than she ever knew she could be. It took everything she had to hold onto this form. It couldn’t last. She didn’t care. Her anger boiled. All grandmother did was hurt people. Oboe wasn’t going to let her hurt Theo, or Fife, or anyone else. She heaved hot, snarling breaths and stalked closer.

Bassoon was laughing. Of course she was laughing. There was something wrong with her. She was broken. Oboe felt broken all her life. She spent her whole life feeling like trash her family had thrown away. That was a mistake. She should’ve listened to Thistle. Oboe wasn’t broken, it was the Circle.

“This is delicious.” Bassoon pulled herself from the rubble. Whispers dived from above, fusing back into grandmother’s body. Her form was shifting. “Yes, give me a reason. I haven’t cut loose in a hundred years.” Claws erupted from her finger tips as the last Whisper returned. Her arms and legs twisted into reptilian scales. Her mouth unhinged, a forked tongue flicked between rows of jagged teeth. “Entertain me, and I will grant you the death you crave.”

She lunged, a dragon large enough to fill the room. Oboe dug her claws into her and she answered by sinking her teeth into Oboe’s shoulder. They grappled, ripping bloody streaks through one another.

The ceiling cracked. The room was huge, but not huge enough for two giant beasts. Oboe pulled back. Theo was dragging himself away, but was about to get stepped on. She reared back and rammed Bassoon with her horns, trying to push her away from Theo.

“What’s this?” Bassoon snapped her jaws, mocking. “Afraid I’ll hurt the poor, helpless little human?” Oboe strained to keep Bassoon back, but her strength gave out. Bassoon shoved Oboe off her feet, and turned towards Theo.

“A victor cannot afford to pity the weak.” Flames licked along bassoon’s snout. She filled her lungs to breathe fire.

“No!!” Oboe leapt, and clamped Bassoon’s jaw shut just as flames escaped, and wrenched her head away.

A smile curled on grandmother’s lips, she forced her jaw open and spat a torrent of flames all over Oboe’s hands. The pain ran up every finger, searing her flesh. The agony filled every sense, deafening like alarm bells and cannon fire. Oboe barely noticed as Bassoon hurled her into the floor. Her magic failed. Oboe shrank back to normal, flat on her back. She stared at her hands, stiff and scorched black.

“No one is owed survival,” Bassoon said, smoke billowing from her nostrils. “You take it, or you die.”

“Shut up!” Oboe said, cringing through the pain. “Just, shut up! I hate you! I hate how you think! I’d rather die than listen to you!!”

Bassoon rolled her eyes. “So be it.” She aimed her claws at Oboe’s heart, and stabbed.

Chains rattled. Oboe opened her eyes. A length of conjured chains coiled around Bassoon’s wrist and leashed her to the wall.

“What?!”

Another took hold of her right wrist, wrenching her arm back. Tattered, burning strips of silk spun through the air, changing into chains that took hold of her legs. More and more piled on, binding her.

“Sister!” A tiny worm on the floor was speaking. It was right underneath Bassoon, magic pouring out of it. “I can’t hold her! You have to hurry!”

“Oboe!!” Theo said. Oboe looked. He had dragged himself to the far end of the room where the sword had gone. “Take it!” Theo threw the blade, and it slid all the way to Oboe’s side.

The pain to move her hands was excruciating, but she forced her fingers tight around the sword hilt. The magic inside it howled up her arm, starving. Bassoon’s eyes went wide. She yanked an arm, shattering one of the chains. There was no time. Oboe jumped into a sprint, rolling past as grandmother slammed a giant fist down. Oboe hopped off her forearm, and thrust the sword deep into Bassoon’s scaly breast. A heart-rending scream split the air as Oboe pulled the sword out again.

“You… you…” Bassoon’s breathing went shallow. “No. How could… I can’t die. I won’t die!!” She thrashed. An ashen color spread through body from the wound. She reached to grab the sword, to take it and seal its magic away again, but Oboe pulled away. “You little weed! You useless, nameless, stupid piece of shit! I’ll kill you!”

The sword clattered to the floor. Oboe fell to her knees. Her whole body hurt; she had nothing left. Bassoon lurched closer and twisted her arm back to attack, but before she could bring it down it hardened and froze. Whispers exploded out of her body, desperate to escape, but each turned to stone in the air and shattered against the ground.

“I’m the queen!” Bassoon said, her mouth growing rigid. “I won’t die! I… can’t…”

Her face split, crumbling to dust. Oboe watched, stunned, as the mound that was her grandmother burst. The ash blew across her face, resting in her fur. The Fair Lady’s magic was snuffed out, like a roaring furnace that had gone ice cold. Oboe stared at the space Bassoon once stood. It did not seem real. She was dead, and they were alive.

Grandmother was right about one thing. Oboe felt no room in her heart for pity.

There was a pounding at the door. The barrier failed the moment The Fair Lady stopped breathing. All that kept the spriggan at bay was a deadbolt lock.

Oboe bent down to touch Fife. Her whole body ached. It hurt to try and use her magic. She pushed past the stinging pain and reached to undo the knot Bassoon had tied. The spell came loose, and Fife took the shape of a faun again. He grabbed Oboe as her knees gave out.

“You did it,” he said. “I can’t believe we’re alive!”

The doors burst open. Armed spriggan poured into the room. Oboe shoved Fife away and grabbed the sword. “Get Theo,” she said, stepping forward to block their path.

Épée was at the head of the guard. Her beak hung open as her eyes scanned the destruction. “What… what is this?! What have you done?!”

“You know what happened,” she said, pointing the sword at them. “You felt it. We all felt it.” Her breathing was labored. “She’s dead. I killed her.”

Heads turned. Panicked murmurs. Some weapons lowered, others were readied. Fife helped Theo to his feet, and brought him close. Oboe tried to remember all the fighting advice Theo had given her. There were ten guards to fight. Maybe more coming. The sword gave her a chance, but she was at her limit. Theo and Fife were battered too.

“Oboe!” Theo reached out to her, leaning against Fife. “Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine.” She kept her eyes forward. “Can you fight?”

He hesitated. “I…” No. He was too sweet.

“Forget it.” Oboe tightened her grip. Theo couldn’t stand to hurt anyone. He cared about everyone. That’s not what they needed right now. They needed someone who was going to do what it took to survive.

“This isn’t real.” Épée’s eyes had glazed over. “She can’t be dead. The Lady was perfect. How could someone like you have killed her…?”

Oboe swiped the air with the sword. “I’ll show you.”

Épée drew her daggers. “You nameless weed! We will have your head for this!!”

“Do you think I’m afraid of you!?” Oboe said. “I just killed the Queen of the Fairies. You’re nothing to me! If you think you can stop me where she couldn’t, then let’s do this!”

Épée was trembling. She exchanged terrified glances with her troop. Their postures wilted. A spear was thrown to the floor, and then a sword. Every weapon clattered to the floor and the spriggans cleared away from their door, bowing. Even Theo was staring at her in awe.

“Let the others know.” Oboe said. “We’re leaving.” Cadets scurried off to spread the word. Oboe marched past the cowering fairies, leading Theo and Fife out into the hall.

“Sister,” Fife said. “You just admitted to Queen Slaying. The Titled will hear of this. They will never give your name back.”

“They can keep it.”