The rock flew through the air and, with a sharp clank, bounced off the knight’s helmet. The entire platoon turned to look at the faun who threw it. He was young, wild-eyed, with scruffy white fur and a maroon colored mantle.

“This is our home!” The faun shouted, waving an arm at the Fairy Circle village. “You don’t belong here! Get out!!”

The knights trained their crossbows on the faun. Each was loaded with an iron bolt charged with magic and was strong enough to kill the average fairy. The faun scrambled to find another rock.

“Stop!” Theodore dashed into the line of fire, holding his arms out to shield the faun. “Are you insane?! Stand down!”

The soldiers lowered their aim. Theodore turned toward the faun, who glared at him with fierce eyes.

“Please don’t do this,” Theodore said. “The occupation won’t be forever. This doesn’t have to get ugly.”

“Don’t tell me that!” The faun said. He was years younger than Oboe, but he had the same fiery spirit. “All you humans care about is the Fount! You just want to get rid of us!”

“We’re just here to keep order until a new Fair Lady is chosen,” Theodore said. “Please. Go back inside. You need to trust us.”

An older faun leaned out the porch of his home. “Bodhrán!” The parent called. “Listen to him! Come here! Now!”

The kid scoffed and brushed pass Theo. The door closed, and Theodore felt a small measure of relief. He glared at the knights and stormed off.

The marketplace was empty. It looked nothing like the bustling square Theodore remembered from when he first stepped into the Fairy Circle. The merchants were gone, too frightened to set up shop in the open. In their place was constant patrol of knights, armed with iron swords and crossbows.

Theodore sat by the well to polish his glasses, trying to calm down. When he finished, he looked up to see Knight Captain Myra Redriver. Her usual grin was absent, worn away. She was appointed as leader of this operation because of her experience fighting the Red Caps. She sat down beside him with a groan, looking as battered as the old plate mail armor she wore.

“It’s getting worse,” she said. It had been three weeks since the death of Bassoon. Three weeks since martial law was declared in the Fairy Circle. “The fairies get angrier every day we’re here.”

“There’s no excuse for pointing weapons at a civilian,” Theodore said.

“I don’t like it any more than you,” Myra said. “Everyone’s on edge.”

Theodore sighed. The Fairy Circle was a powder keg and the knights were an open flame. “We should withdraw. Let the Fairy Circle sort out its own politics.”

“That’s not an option,” she said. “We found too many spies in the city. Nobody goes home until we know we can trust the new fairy leader.” She forced a smile for him. “That’s why we need you to figure this out, Deputy.”

Theodore grimaced. “I’m not the Ranger Deputy anymore. The Knight Detective stripped me of that rank. I’m not even supposed to be here.”

She leaned close. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” She almost knocked him out of his seat with a rough, but affectionate, slap on the back. “You’ve a way with these critters. I’d rather it be you at the council than any of us.”

Theodore checked his pocket-watch. In less than an hour, the highest ranking of the Titled fey would converge on the fairy palace and start talks about how to elect a new Fair Lady. Thistle predicted that it would be weeks of bickering, scheming and power plays as each of the Titled would squabble to take power. It was not something Theodore was looking forward to.

Fairies did not have bloodlines of succession the way human kings or dukes did. Bassoon never appointed an heir. She had been in power for a thousand years and must’ve assumed she would continue to rule in perpetuity. It was a shock to the Circle, to the whole country of Laien, that the Fair Lady was dead.

Theodore stood up. “I should get going. I still have to find Oboe and cross the lake before the council starts.”

“Good luck,” Myra said. “I’ll try not to burn down the Circle in the meantime.”

All Theodore could do was nod. It felt like they were on the brink on a riot, or worse. He and Oboe were responsible for killing the Fair Lady. If there was anything he could do to help bring order back to the Circle, he owed it to the Whirlwood to try.

Oboe sat on a hillside overlooking the Fairy Circle and stared at the burns on her hands. Her blackened fingers itched under the bandages, still raw from the fight with grandmother, but Thistle had told her not the scratch. The fur could only grow back if she left the ointment alone. She tried to put the pain out of her mind. Somewhere below, Theo was waiting for her. She needed to get moving, but whenever she tried to move she felt stuck to the spot with tar.

It was so strange seeing the Circle just sitting there, out in the open. How many cold and lonely days had she looked off in the distance, wishing she could catch just a glimpse of her childhood home again? Well, there it was. Ripped from its hiding place for all to see; the Circle seemed like a great big festering zit on the face of the Whirlwood. Why had she wasted so many years praying for a chance to go back to that vile, wicked place? Because she was stupid, that’s why.

No. Oboe shook her head. She was done blaming herself for the things that were wrong with the Circle. Even if she’d made mistakes, the biggest was believing she was the one at fault. 

“Oboe?” Theo hoisted himself up onto the plateau. He looked different, wearing a green sweater instead of his uniform. “There you are! I was looking for you!”

Her dark mood evaporated. She could not help but smile the moment she saw him. The whole world wasn’t rotten.

“Sorry,” she said as he helped her get back on her hooves. “I lost track of time.”

“The council will start soon.” His fingers lingered in Oboe’s a moment longer. “We should start heading that way.”

“…I don’t know if I should go with you,” she said. “I’m the one that killed Bassoon. They won’t want me there.” She tried to let go, but he held onto her.

“The Knights of the Realm will make sure you’re safe,” Theo said. “I won’t force you, but I’d like you there. You look at things in a way I don’t. It’d be better for everyone if we’re both there to fix this.”

Oboe’s heart melted, just a little. Enough to convince her, against her better judgment, to go back to that awful place. “Okay,” she said, and followed him down the hillside and through the gates of the fairy settlement.

The sights and sounds of the Outer Circle felt unreal. Human soldiers in breastplates and silver cloaks patrolled the dirt roads, hefting their weapons. Homes and storefronts were battened tight, with nervous eyes peeping through beaded curtains. The only other fairies they met on the way were quick to slip out of sight. Furies with sharp beaks and sharp eyes. Gnomes moving in packs, like one prickly mass. Leshy wrung their oaken hands, with branches of their brittle hair uneven and freshly broken. They all noticed Oboe as she came through, watching her with eyes wide. There were murmurs. Oboe wondered, with dread, about what they were saying. She scolded herself: it could be no worse than the things they always said.

Their boat landed on the shore of the inner circle with little time to spare. Knights escorted them through the gardens up to grandmother’s palace. Furies stood guard and blocked the doorway with crossed halberds.

“Hey!” Oboe said. “What gives? Let us through!”

The spriggan did not budge. Their beaks tightened, and their eyes narrowed.

“Stand down!” The knights said. “This man is here to attend the council!”

The halberds whipped around, now pointed at the humans. The knights, spooked, unsheathed their swords and readied the shards of crystalline magic they wore around their necks.

“Wait!” Theo said. “There’s no need to fight! Just tell us what’s going on!”

“They are following orders,” a voice called from inside the palace. Hooves clopped against the marble floor, and a chill wind blew from inside. A unicorn stepped out from the shadows beyond the archway, snowy white with a long neck, and a horn that stretched like a spear from her brow.  She was draped in a light blue caparison, trimmed with gold to mark her as one of the Titled. “This is fairy business. No human may set foot inside the council.”

“I am the Ranger Deputy of the Whirlwood,” Theodore said. It was a lie, and he hated it, but it was the plan. “According to the peace treaties, I have the right to speak with the king’s authority in any and all internal politics of this valley.”

The unicorn trotted closer on cloven hooves. She whipped her lion’s tail, and eyed him sideways with an electric blue gaze. Her body was slender, long and wiry, but her regal mane of wavy hair, and her icy confidence, made her seem much larger than she was.

“Correct me if I am mistaken,” she said. “But there is a rumor that you have been relieved of that title.”

Theodore felt a sinking sensation. He had hoped the news of his demotion would not spread so quickly. There was no Ranger Deputy now and it would take months to appoint a new one. Myra bent the rules by sending him here. If the Knights of the Realm forced themselves on the council, it would only escalate conflict.

“You’ve been misinformed,” Theodore said, uneasy. “I’ve come to help resolve this crisis at the request of the crowned prince. I want only to restore peace between our people.”

“Oho?” She studied him. The air grew colder. “I see. How very peculiar.” Snowflakes drifted around the unicorn, dancing. “…Be that as it may, ‘Deputy,’ you are not needed. This is a fairy matter, and we do not need the help of humans meddling in our affairs.”

“What’s your problem??” Oboe pushed to the front to shout at the unicorn. “Theo came here to help and you’re treating him like an enemy! Let him help!!”

“Ah! Queenslayer!” The unicorn lifted a leg. There was an excitement in her voice that shocked Theodore. “I was hoping you would speak up. I was worried the humans had cut out your tongue. Have you come to attend the council? There is a seat saved for you.”

“Huh??” Oboe said.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” the unicorn said. “I am High Countess Beira Stormbreak, former advisor to our late Fair Lady. As you have taken the liberty of… dismissing her from her millennium of service, I and the Highest of the Titled are left to appoint a replacement. It would be an honor if you would join us.”

“Wait,” Theodore said, bewildered. “You WANT Oboe to attend?”

Beira nodded. “Of course. She has a claim to the throne, by right of conquest. A fairy cunning enough to slaughter Bassoon has earned the privilege to speak, provided that is the end of her violence.”

Oboe gave Theodore a helpless look. “But I’m nameless.”

“The situation is unprecedented, I admit,” Beira said. “Named or not, you are Queenslayer.”

“I’m not going without Theo,” she said.

“Be at ease, then. Regardless of my opinion, I cannot stop the Ranger Deputy from attending. We will honor our ancient pact.” The spriggan lowered their weapons, but Beira did not move from the doorway. “However, Deputy, you will honor that pact as well. You will come alone, and you will come unarmed. Your thugs will stay behind.

Myra’s men looked at Theodore. “This isn’t safe,” one said. “Shall we gather more men? Force them to let you through with security?”

“An act of war,” the unicorn said, eyes flashing. “The treaties promised the Circle autonomy. If you break that ancient covenant today, you proclaim to all the fey that our truce has come to an end. Are you that bold, Grayweather? Tell me.”

“No,” Theodore said. She was right. If the king’s army forced itself on the council, it would violate the treaties. “This is a diplomatic mission. I agree to your terms.”

“Splendid!” She stepped aside. “I trust the Queenslayer will be joining us?”

Oboe didn’t move. Her face was tense and grave, her mind swimming through some distant thought.

“You don’t have to go,” Theodore told her. He should never have pressured her to return here.

“I’m not letting you go by yourself,” she said.

“Come along then,” Countess Stormbreak said. She led them inside at a canter, and a line of armed spriggan appeared to block the exit behind them. “I can’t tell you how excited I am to hear about your vision for the future of our people, Queenslayer.”

The door to the throne room opened and they were bathed with the sound of chamber music. A string quartet of sylph stroked their bony forearms against their instruments, milking out an elegant harmony together. A banquet of food was set out on long tables, laden with exotic fruits, wines, and flaky pastries. Fairies in gilded mantles mingled throughout.

“You’re having a party?” Oboe said, wrinkling her nose. “Right now??”

“The Titled are accustomed to being entertained,” Beira Stormbreak said. There was a hint of disgust in her voice. “The world is ending outside, but a bare minimum of pampering must be accomplished before any work can be done.”

“I did not come here to feast,” Theo said as a tray of food was presented to him. “I’m here to mediate on behalf of the crown.”

“Oh, believe me, I am as anxious as you are,” Beira said. “These fickle hens are impossible to motivate. They’ll wait until the gong is rung and not a moment sooner. You might as well partake until then.”

The food was offered to Oboe. The hors d’ouvres trembled when she reached out to take one. Little apple wedges with runny cheese on top were lined on a tray, held up by a frightened serving pooka. She had blue-gray fur, long floppy ears, and eyes she kept pointed at the floor. After Oboe took a morsel, the servant was quick to hurry away from her. It made Oboe sad to see her so scared. Forgetting to taste the food, she wondered what that creature’s life was like.

“Deputy Grayweather? Oboe?”

Oboe looked up to see a nymph. Short, with chestnut skin and hair like braided grass. Her plain white hood was drawn, but her soft milky eyes were clear. Oboe recognized her. This was the priestess who had helped the fate-starved dream sowers affected by the Duke Ambergrail’s fairy ban.

“Gardner Feather?” Theo said. “It’s been a while.”

“It is good to see you both again.” She bowed. “I wish it were during a less troubled time.”

“What are you doing here?” Oboe said. “Are you one of the Titled?”

She shook her head. “The Circle is honor bound to grant a seat and a voice to the church at times such as this. Although, they do not often listen to what we have to say, I am here to remind them that the Mother of Magic is watching. We must let Her guide us.”

“Yes, yes, how wonderfully inspirational,” Beira said, impatient. She craned her neck toward Oboe. “Queenslayer, may I trouble you to speak a moment in private?”

Oboe felt uneasy. She didn’t want to stray too far from Theo, but he did not look at all frightened. He arched his eyebrows as if to give permission. “Um. I guess,” she said.

The countess led her away.

“I admire you,” the unicorn said. “You came and, in a few days, accomplished what I had only dreamed of for years. You freed us from a tyrant.”

“I killed my grandmother,” Oboe said.

“All the more incredible. I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you here at the council. It would be a shame if the one who gave us this opportunity was not here to participate. There is so much more work to be done.”

Beira paraded her around the hall. Titled fey throughout the room reacted to the sight of Oboe with fright and surprise. She wished they wouldn’t stare. The Countess seemed to delight in their reactions.

“I don’t want to be here,” Oboe said. “I only came so the Circle can become a better place.”

“Then we are the same,” Beira said. “We need bold voices to shake the Titled from their precious comfort. It is up to us to uproot them from stagnation and finish the work of liberation.”

They approached a hulking bug creature, who was waddling back and forth along the buffet table. She was a sylph, like Thistle, but giant. A proboscis dangled from her face, sucking up the last of the frosted pastries. Her enormous abdomen dragged along the floor behind her and little normal sylph hovered nearby to collect any stray eggs she happened to lay.

“Hive mother!” Beira said, in a sing song voice. “It is so good to see you in the palace again after all this time. You are looking well. Have you had a chance to give any more thought to my proposal?”

Chitinous antennae twitched and swung in the direction of the unicorn. The Hive Mother’s face was like a mask, with great black eyes that shined. She withdrew her proboscis and clattered her mandibles. 

“Countess Stormbreak, I have told you already.” Her voice was loud and rumbly, like a train passing. “We will not help you. The Whirlskepp sylph have made a good life trading with the humans. There is nothing you can say that will make me throw that away.”

“How unfortunate.” Beira sighed. “Then let us talk about other things. Have you had a chance to meet the Queenslayer?”

Attention turned to Oboe. She held up a nervous hand. “Hello.”

“The Queenslayer was just telling me how she thinks the Circle needs to change. Isn’t that right?”

The Hive Mother’s eyes shone brighter, staring. It made Oboe even more uncomfortable.

“Do not think you can threaten me, Stormbreak,” she said. “The matter will be settled at the council, and no sooner.” With that, she heaved herself in another direction and stomped away in the same hurry as the serving pooka.

“…Everyone’s scared of me,” Oboe said.

“Yes, they are,” Beira said. “You’re very lucky.”

“Lucky?!” Oboe was baffled. “How am I lucky??”

“When other creatures are afraid of you, they listen.” Beira dipped her snout in a punch bowl for refreshment. “It opens doors, and keeps enemies in check. Bassoon understood that. It’s why she ruled as long as she did.”

The praise did not sit well with Oboe. “I thought you said she was a tyrant.”

“Yes, she was,” Beira said. “A selfish, vile, overgrown weed that stunted the growth of our people for centuries. For what? So, so she could toy with the humans and extend her life forever?” She trotted around to look Oboe in the eye. “The Circle has so much potential, and she squandered it. You see that, don’t you? That’s why the Fates brought you to this moment. Something needs to change, and I think if we work together we can mold the Circle into what it was meant to become.”

Something was wrong. The things Beira said sounded wonderful, but the words were honeyed. It reminded her too much of how grandmother spoke to her. Flattery and threats all used to point Oboe in a direction, a direction that hurt others. She didn’t know what Beira really wanted, and she wasn’t going to let herself be manipulated again.

“I don’t know that we want the same things,” Oboe said, tugging at her bandages. “You talk phony. You just tried to use me to talk the sylph into changing their mind. I don’t trust you.”

Beira shook her mane. “This is how the game is played, child. If you don’t like it, help me change the rules.”

Oboe didn’t like her. “I’ll decide who I want to help after I’ve heard everyone speak.”

“As you will,” she said, her tone turning sharp. “A word of warning, though. I meant what I said: It is time for the Circle to change. I won’t let us fall into the old pattern, and I won’t let the humans trample us. I WON’T, do you understand me? You and your conspirator are free to throw your lot in with whomever you choose, but if you get in my way, I promise that you will regret it.” She turned and cantered off. “Change is coming. One way or another.”

“They killed the Fair Lady!” The fury’s head-feathers bristled. Her long beak was curved like a sickle. She moved across the banquet hall, her talons clicking against the floor, pushing past the Titled trying to calm her. Military honors decorated a sleeveless vest, which let her wings move free. “They have no right to sit with us! They have no right to breathe! Let us kill them and get about our business!”

Theodore had expected this from General Warsong. He made a point to do as much research as he could about all the Titled in attendance. What he hadn’t expected was her to call for his and Oboe’s death before the council even started.

“We aren’t going anywhere, General,” Theodore said. As aggressive as Warsong was, he knew by reputation that it would be far more dangerous to back down from her. “Your own laws are clear on the matter. Every creature has a right to defend itself when attacked. Bassoon meant to kill us.”

“And she would have! But you employed a vorpal blade! There was no honor in how she was slain!”

The general’s shouting drew the attention of the whole room. Oboe found him, rushed to his side. “Is she threatening you??”

He placed a grateful hand on the small of her back. “It’s okay,” he said, and stepped past her to lock eyes with Warsong.

“You’re right,” he told her. “It was not an honorable fight. Bassoon was a powerful fairy, perhaps the strongest this land will ever see. We did what we had to in order to survive, but I take no pride in it. I made certain that sword was dispelled and melted down.”

Feather, the Gardner, spoke up. “Our Fair Lady was not known for her honor. She valued cunning. If power was ever to be taken from her, this is the only way she would’ve respected.”

“I think we all want what’s best for the Fairy Circle,” Theodore said. “We may not agree on what that is, but I think we can all come together and debate in a way that’s fair, a way that’s honorable, we can arrive at one best vision for a future that can benefit everyone.”

Theodore noticed something out of the corner of his eye. A team of serving gnomes scurried across the rafters overhead, dragging a big mallet. They clambered onto each other’s shoulders, teetering, careful not to step on each other’s quills. Together they swung the mallet and rung a big gong. The sound reverberated throughout the hall, washing away the tense mood and signaling that it was time for the council to begin.

“Very well,” Warsong said. “I accept your challenge.” She held out her hand and squeezed her clawed fingers into a fist. “I will OBLITERATE you in fair and civil debate and create a peace so lasting and perfect that you will despair at ever having set foot in our lands!” With that, she marched off to be the first one at the table. The crowd thinned, climbing the stairs after her, toward what promised to be a long and arduous day.

“You got her to calm down,” Oboe said.

“Just barely,” Theodore said. “Thank you for being ready to step in.” He felt safer and bolder with her at his side. “Here’s more good news. Gardner Feather is on our side.”

She bowed. “Some of the Titled are calling for rebellion against the crown. I want to advocate for the alliance to be maintained. Despite the problems between our peoples, I believe the path of cooperation is what the Mother expects from all her children.”

Something was troubling Oboe. “…I think Beira is one that wants to rebel,” she said. “We can’t trust her. She’s sneaky and she’s angry about the humans being here.”

“I think everyone’s upset about that,” Theodore said. The City Watch and the Knights of the Realm certainly were not excited about maintaining martial law. “They’re all scared because their home’s been invaded. That’s okay. We can reason with them.”

“I don’t know.” Oboe’s eyes drifted toward the heraldry hanging throughout the hall. Old banners bearing the Fair Lady’s emblem, the acorn and its keyhole, Oboe’s family’s crest, were left over from her regime. “It’s like grandmother is still here. Like she left a curse, and everyone thinks like she did. I hate it.”

“We must have faith that these things can change,” Feather said. “If we’re patient, and work together, perhaps we can sway their hearts and show them a better way.”

Lips tight and brow stooped, Oboe did not look convinced.

The arguments started before everyone was seated. The palace solarium, with its tall wide windows peering out over the Circle and the valley beyond, was prepared to host the Council. A massive, round, oaken table had been assembled and matched with plush chairs, benches and cushions to accommodate every type of body. Theodore entered to find they’d dawdled too long, and the first shouting match had started without him.

“Are you BLIND or STUPID?” A pooka rabbit, with silky black fur and a plum colored coat, stomped across the table. “Look outside! The humans are everywhere! Are we supposed to tolerate this? Wait until they cross the lake to depose us? Tell me!” Theodore guessed this was Countess Thornberry. She was using the table to add to her height, which was necessary because she was arguing with High Lady Willow: A leshy who, even sitting, loomed over her.

“Think about this, you little rat,” Willow said. Her long hair hung in a thicket of brambles over her diaphanous robes. “This is not a fight we can win. Even if we drive the knights from our land, more will come. Picking a fight will drag us all into an endless bloody war with the most powerful kingdom on the continent.”

“Then you say we should roll over!” General Warsong snapped her beak. “Let them have their way with us!”

“I have a better idea,” Theodore said. He picked up two chairs and made a place for himself and Oboe at the table. “We work through this. There’s no need for a war, and there’s no need for the Circle to lose its sovereignty.”

“Look, you see?” Thornberry gestured with a padded paw. “There’s even a human in the palace! They’ve even taken our right to speak freely!”

“Let the human hear.” Beira Stormbreak sounded amused. “Let him see that we are not afraid. The fairies of the Whirlwood were here before the humans came, and we will remain long after they are gone.”

The last of the highest of the Titled found a spot at the table. Each was a leader of one form or another, who told other leaders what to do. They seemed the same as the nobles in the capital: they were accustomed to having their way.

“It’s been demonstrated that Bassoon planned to overthrow the king with the help of a Feymire Army,” Theodore said. “It’s impossible for us to know who among you were complicit with this scheme, and it’s understandable that you all would be anxious about what the crown intends to do as a result. Let me assure you that our purpose here is simple. Our peoples have been friends for generations. I want to do everything possible to make sure that continues.”

“‘Friends.'” Beira smacked her lips, as if tasting the word for the first time. “Tell me, Deputy, is it friendship that compelled you humans to place a ban on fairies in your city? Is friendship the reason why our streets are overflowing with soldiers armed with iron weapons? I’m very curious.”

Gardner Feather stood up. “With respect, Countess, it should be clear that we have lost the trust of the humans. Whatever other problems we have, there is no denying that Bassoon acted wickedly.”

“Take that back!” An old gnome Baroness said. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to you insult our Fair Lady!”

Oboe slammed a fist onto the table, drawing everyone’s attention. Her face was clenched as tight as her hand. “My grandmother was wicked. She hurt creatures, she planted spies, and all she cared about was herself! She’s the reason this happened.”

“Shut up, nameless!” The gnome said. “No one gave you permission to speak!”

The Hive Mother let out a low grumble. “Baroness, any creature capable of slaying the Fair Lady is worthy of our respect.”

“A nameless is less than a creature,” said High Lady Willow. “A nameless is nothing. Yet she is here, a living insult. A murderer and a traitor. She is the real cause of this disaster.”

“Don’t blame a soldier for following orders,” Countess Beira said. “It’s obvious she slew our Fair Lady to help her human masters. That is where you should direct your outrage.”

Theodore felt a flicker of anger he had to stifle. Caution was needed. The wrong choice of words could do more damage than good. He looked at his friend. She glared past the Titled, enduring their words.

“Queenslayer is name enough,” the Hive Mother said. “She is here by rights. As long as her violence has ended, the law says she is welcome.”

“Yes, I agree.” Beira tilted her head toward Theodore. “Might I suggest a shorter leash for your mongrel? She looks ready to bite.”

Oboe muttered something.

“What was that?”

“I said you deserve this!” She said. “You’re awful! I hope the humans take over! I hope they punish all of you!!”

An icy mood descended over the room. Theodore itched with panic. He could not fault Oboe’s anger, but they were standing on the edge of a dangerous cliff. He got up.

“I want to propose a solution.”

“Do you.” Countess Thornberry looked prepared and ready to be unimpressed. “What is it that you have to say that could possibly fix all of this?”

“You want our forces to leave. I respect that. The treaties promised fairies authority over their own affairs, and we are an outside force exerting control. The King wants is to know that the conspiracy to overthrow him died with Bassoon. What’s needed is transparency. If the new Fair Lady can consent to routine inspections, proving you mean no ill will, I can persuade the knights to withdraw and leave you to govern yourselves.”

“Ridiculous!” Warsong said. “You expect us to expose ourselves so fully?”

“Do you mean to say your soldiers cannot protect you if you show them to us?” Theodore said. “Or are you saying you aren’t brave enough to trust us?”

The General’s feathers puffed, furious at both slights. “No! Do not be absurd. Fine. Inspect our forces, and know we aren’t afraid of you!”

“I believe this offer is the best we can hope for,” Feather said. “It will take time and effort to rebuild trust with the humans, but the Deputy is giving us a clear road to that goal.”

A gentle murmur rose up among the Titled. Theodore relaxed. He could feel the tension lift. He could hear argument, but the fairies were considering accepting his plan.

“I have a question,” Beira said. “On what authority do you intend to arrange all of this?”

Theodore paused. Something was wrong. “On my authority as Ranger Deputy.”

“I see.” Beira looked off to the side, and a serving nymph approached holding a piece of parchment. She offered it to Beira’s neighbors. “I ask, because it’s come to my attention that you were fired from that position. I present a copy of the form we intercepted.”

“This is an official dismissal!” Countess Thornberry said, passing it off to the next creature. “Signed and sanctioned! He isn’t the Ranger Deputy anymore!”

“Do you deny these facts?” Beira asked Theodore.

Theodore hesitated. “I–“

“What is this?!” General Warsong said. “A trick? He has no title!”

“So what?!” Oboe shouted. “Why does it matter if Theo has a title?? He’s trying to help everyone!

“If he has no title, then he has no right to be here,” said High Lady Willow. “He has no authority!  He can’t change anything! This is a waste of our time. Call the spriggan! Get rid of him!”

Fairy soldiers approached Theodore from behind and took hold of his shoulders. “Wait,” he said. “I may not be Ranger Deputy, but I can still make this work! I can help you!”

“Let go of him!” Oboe said.

Beira crept around the bend of the table, chuckling to herself. “How did you put it before? Every creature has a right to protect itself. I won’t let you deceive us, and I won’t let humans take advantage of us.” She turned to order the spriggan. “Throw him out.””

“No!” Oboe knocked her chair over, spinning around to fight. “I won’t let you!”

“Oboe, don’t!” Theodore said, holding a hand out to stop her. “She’s right. I don’t have a right to be here.” He presented himself to the spriggan to be escorted out. “I wanted to help, but I refuse to start a war. I’ll go.”