Theodore held his hands up as the furies surrounded him. There were more blades pointed at him than he could keep track of. He was outnumbered with nowhere to run.

“I’m unarmed,” He said. “My name is Theodore Grayweather. I don’t mean to cause any trouble. I’m the Ranger Deputy, and I’m looking for someone. Maybe you can help me?”

Several of the furies faltered, their blades lowering, eyes darting between one another.

“He’s one of the King’s men,” one said. “What do we do?”

The guards looked toward what appeared to be their lead officer. She was grim faced, with eyes as sharp and narrow as her beak. Red-tipped head feathers fanned off her brow like spikes.

“The last human official who came unannounced was an assassin,” she said. “No risks. Cage this interloper until the Court decides what to do with him!”

The furies moved in to seize Theodore. “Wait!” he said, but they did not. He was wrestled to the ground. His wrists were yanked behind him and bound with rope.

“You can’t do this” Theodore said, spitting dirt out of his mouth. “I’m the appointed authority over the Whirlwood! I have the right to come here!”

“Clamp your beak, human.” The commander forced him onto his feet. “That’s for our Lady to decide. Now walk!”

The civilians gawked through their windows as the furies marched Theodore through the street, strutting like cranes. His appearance seemed to spark curiosity, but the civilians kept their distance. He marched across blocks of the fairy settlement. There were burrows and Earthenware homes. The city space was alive with trees and ripe with zoo smells. They came to a halt at a looming wall of knotted briar thorns that barred any further advance.

“Return to your patrol,” the commander ordered. “I will take it from here.”

The rest of the guard took flight. Theodore was pulled by his bindings down a cobblestone staircase down and into the mass of thorns. The growth was a fortress the fairies shaped from the vines.

“Rupert!!” The commander shouted.

A fat pooka, curled up cozy and snoring in a chair, woke with a fright.

“Buh-wha?!” Rupert hopped into a salute, rubbing gunk from his eye with his free hand. He was a little rabbit fairy with charcoal black fur and one lopped ear. He wore the same armor as the furies. “Commander Épée! Sir! How can I help you?”

“Open a cell for this one! And be quick about it! I need to report to the Fair Lady!”

Scampering across the stony floor, Rupert ran up to a patch of briar wall and spread his arms. The brambles opened to reveal a small room. Épée, the commander, hurled Theodore inside. Vines curled back over the opening to seal him in. Épée then scooped Rupert up by the scruff of his neck.

“Cadet, if I catch you napping again, I’ll have you torn apart and fed to my young.”

Rupert wriggled, helpless in her grip. “Just resting my eyes! It won’t happen again!”

With a grunt, she dropped him. He bounced and rolled into a corner. Theodore, still sore from his own rough treatment, approached the ‘bars’ of his cell.

“What happens now?” He said. “I’m an officer in service of your king! You’re just going to lock me up?!”

She folded her wings. “I bow only to the Fair Lady. She will decide what is done with you. Pray that she doesn’t give you to me.”

Theodore paced the confines of his cells after the spriggan commander left. He couldn’t afford to be detained while Oboe’s fate was still uncertain. He needed a way out.

If there were a lock he could try to pick it, but there was no such mechanism. He was sealed inside by plant growth controlled by magic. He tried to pry the brambles apart and found them as rigid as steel. The floor was a bedrock of stone. Even if Theodore had though to bring a handsaw or shovel it would not have helped him. No amount of force was going to work here.

Rupert, the pooka jailer, yawned and smacked his lips. He was the one in control of the vines, but he seemed ready to doze off again. If his work ethic was this abysmal, perhaps he was dimwitted as well. Theodore wondered how gullible he was.

“Hello? Cadet?” Theodore leaned against the vines. “I’ve finished inspecting the cell. You can open it.”

“Huh?” He shook himself alert. “What’re you talking about? You’re a prisoner. You stay in the cell. That’s your job. My job is not letting you out. It’s simple.”

“No, I am not a prisoner.” Theodore gestured towards his uniform. “As you can see, I am an official jail inspector. I was sent from the capital to insure your prisons are safe and meeting all regulation.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. The commander was mean to you.”

Theodore took a gamble. “Isn’t she mean to everyone?”

Rupert couldn’t help but nod. “Yeah, that’s true.” Something clicked. “Wait a second. You’re trying to trick me! This is like the time that captive promised to feed me grubs if I let him out.” He bared his teeth. “There weren’t any grubs at all! Only lies!”

“No, no!” Theodore struggled to keep his poker face. “I am an inspector. I refer you to consider Laien city ordinance 113.2-B. All prisons are required to be graded annually for compliances in safety and security. So far your jail is doing very well in the security category.”

Rupert beamed. “Of course it is! My thorns are the strongest there are!”

“But you’re doing poorly in the safety department.” He sniffed, and pointed at the animal droppings in the corner of the cell. “This is unsanitary. How often are these cells cleaned?”

Panic struck. “That’s not my fault! The Spriggan guard keep bringing in captives to fill cells faster than we have a chance to clean!”

“That’s no excuse,” Theodore said. “Have you tried rotating prisoners between cells? That would enable you to get cleaning done where it’s needed most.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Rupert admitted.

“That’s why these inspections are routine,” Theodore said. “Now, I notice the vines are very dry. What is your policy in the event of a fire?”

The jailer’s face turned toward embarrassment. “I don’t think we have one.”

“Let me see a map of your facility. We can plan a fire escape route together.”

Without any argument, Rupert opened the cell. They met at a table where the pooka brought out a pencil to sketch a crude map of the briar patch jail. Together, they collaborated on the most efficient route for Theodore to escape.

“I feel safer already,” Rupert said.

“You should still run drills to make sure everyone is familiar with what to do. Now, do you have a filing system? How do you keep track of inmate records?”

“Oh. I don’t think so.” Rupert scratched his head.

Theodore gave him a stern look. “How do you know where a captive is and when they are ready to be released?”

 “Usually Benny keeps track of all that in his head. He’s got a real good memory.”

He shook his head. “That isn’t good enough. You’ll make fewer mistake if you enforce a system to keep track of everything.”

Before Theodore realized what he was doing, he was instructing the pooka on proper filing etiquette. He went so far as to design a system where inmates up for parole would have their files automatically refiled into the warden’s desk inbox, and a color-coded registration system for assigning inmate locations.

They were interrupted when a uniformed leshy stepped into the room and caught them.

“What’s going on in here?!”

Theodore froze. It wasn’t until that moment that he realized he’d lost control of himself.

“Benny!” Rupert said. “This human is helping us make a new system so we know when to let inmates go!”

“What? Really?” Benny’s face sagged with relief. “That’s wonderful! I am so sick of having to remember everything. I just made stuff up half the time.”

Theodore let himself breathe again. That was a close call and he couldn’t afford to push his luck much further. He needed to get back on track and find Oboe.

“I have a theoretical question for you both,” Theodore said. “Let’s say a nameless fairy comes back to the Circle after years of exile. Where would she be kept in your jail here?”

“A nameless?” Benny ran his fingers through a mossy beard. “They wouldn’t keep a nameless in the Outer Circle jail. It’s too serious a crime. They’d haul that scum to the Inner Circle dungeon to be tortured and stand trial.”

Worry spurred Theodore to wrap this up. “Very good. I plan to inspect that jail next. How do I go about getting there?”

“That’s easy.” Rupert said. “Just grab a boat at the dock. The Inner Circle is the island on the center of the lake.”

Theodore smiled. “One last thing, while I’m investigating your security, I’d like to have an idea of the patrol routes for your city guards. To check for weak points, you understand.”

As Theodore was climbing over walls and sidling along back alleys, he thought of several other organizational policies that would help boost the efficiency of the Fairy Circle jail. He made a mental note to draft a few proposals and send them by messenger bird after this was all over.

He kept an eye on the sky. In the distance, he could see furies soaring in wide arcs along patrol routes. Even with his path to the docks in mind, he needed to be careful.

His father always stressed the value of going undetected. Theodore recalled his lectures with grudging necessity. Stay low or keep high to stay out of line of sight. A good distraction can be better than silence. Move heel to toe and be double sure of your surroundings before proceeding. For such a celebrated warrior, the man believed it was better to be sneaky than to get into a fight. Of course, that never stopped him from tormenting Theodore with endless sword drills.

“Did you hear a human got into the Circle??”

Theodore stopped. A couple of gray furred fauns were gossiping at the end of the shadowed alley. They were dressed in silk mantles, both males.

“Some untitled lowborn probably let them in,” the fluffier one said. “See, this is why the Court needs to spend the Fates to add more folds to the Circle! What if it gives birth to a litter here? It could start a whole infestation!”

“I think we’re okay,” The short haired one said. “The Spriggan caught it pretty quick. The Lady wouldn’t let the humans take over.”

The other scoffed. “She’s let them push us around for centuries. Have you seen all the guests she’s let in? I don’t like it. One insult and they’ll turn on us. It’s time the Circle had a real queen. One who won’t take crap from humans. One who’s not afraid to go back to the old ways!”

“You shouldn’t talk like that. If word got back to our Lady…” The short hair shot glances in all directions. His eyes widened as they focused on Theodore. “Wait. Who’s that?”

Theodore bolted, doubling back down the way he’d come. He came to a cobblestone bridge, and dropped down into a stony water channel. Hiding underneath the bridge, he waited until he heard hooves clopping overhead and stayed still until he was certain they were gone.

Lance would’ve failed him for that mistake. Made him start all over. Thankfully, life was more forgiving than his father. He peered down the waterway and realized it would take him to the docks if he followed it. Provided he didn’t make too much noise wading through the ankle-deep flow.

Pushing upstream, he wondered why he had never seen Oboe wearing clothes like other fauns. Was it because she was nameless? It was still strange to think about her being an outcast. She never talked about it. He hoped she was okay.

Theodore came out the far end of a tunnel with miserable soaked socks. A set of piers stretched along the shore. He climbed back up to street level and crept through someone’s vegetable garden to get closer. A family of gnomes was disembarking a small skiff. Theodore moved in as soon as they left and found the dock was deserted.

On the back of a citation, Theodore wrote a formal apology for commandeering the skiff and advised the gnomes could seek reimbursement by addressing the Ranger Deputy office at their earliest convenience. He left the note under a firm stone and climbed into the boat to untie the mooring.

“Hey!!” Something small and fast zipped out of the skiff and buzzed circles around Theodore’s head. “What’re you doing to my boat?! Get out of my boat! I’ll kill you!!”

Theodore staggered back, trying not to fall out of the boat while some sort of bug dive bombed him. He tried waving it away and got bit.

“Ow!”

“No free rides!” Its leafy wings flittered like book pages while shaking a twiggy little arm at him. It was a pesky, the smallest variety of fairy he was familiar with. “Get out of my boat, or I’ll drown you!!” This one was like an enraged butterfly.

Theodore checked that they were still alone. “Shhh! Stop yelling! Please! I’m sorry. I meant no offense.”

“I’ll yell wherever I want!” The pesky was screaming now. “Make your own boat if you want to be quiet! This is my boat!! You don’t tell me what to do!!”

Doors and windows opened on the far side of the dock. Fauns, leshy, and pooka were leaning out of their homes to see what the racket was about. Theodore’s blood ran cold.

“I need to get to the island!” Theodore pointed across the lake. “I can pay you. Just… lower your voice.”

“Oh yeah?!” She perched on the bow of the skiff, arms crossed. “I don’t service boat thieves! You people are worse than scum! Scum!!”

The locals were muttering. It was only a matter of time before someone called for the guards.

“I can pay!” He said. “I’ll pay double!”

She tilted her head, as skeptical as if he had claimed to be the King. “Oh yeah? Let’s see the cash. Four thalers to cross the lake.”

Theodore fumbled with his wallet. This was actually cheaper than a trolley fare. “Here.”

“Do I look like a bank to you?? Exact change or you’re swimming!”

At this rate, it might come to that. “It’s a tip! Please hurry!”

She zipped over and snatched the bill from his hand and did a quick orbit around his head. “Welcome aboard the ferry. I’ll be your Skipper, Pollywog. Don’t fall out of the boat or I’ll leave you to drown.”

“Whatever!” Theodore looked back to see another firework whistle into the air. “Just go!”

Pollywog, taking her time, stuffed the money into a lockbox and fluttered down to the stern of the skiff. She pushed, and Theodore fell backwards into the deck as the whole vessel shot across the water like a rocket. Mist sprayed through the air as they hurtled so fast that Theodore lacked the strength to sit up.

“This is too fast!” Theodore said, shouting over the wind in his face. “This isn’t safe!”

“My boat, my rules!” Pollywog said.

Eyes locked on the sky, Theodore saw Furies closing in around them. “Never mind!” Theodore said. “Faster! You need to go faster!”

A fury landed heavy on the bow and sent the whole skiff rocking. The vessel slowed into a coast, and lake water slopped onto Theodore’s head. He sat up, and faced a scowling bird guard.

“What happened?!” Pollywog said. She fluttered to catch up, but hid behind Theodore with a yelp the moment she noticed the fury. “It’s the sprigs! Don’t let them see me! I can’t go back to jail!”

The fury crawled closer, on hands and talons. Two more circled overhead. Theodore scrambled backwards, the boat pitching back under his weight.

“Yield.” The fury drew a copper dagger from his waist, his face like an owl’s. “Or else.”

Ahead, Theodore could see the island surrounded by briar thorns. He folded his spectacles into his breast pocket. The Inner Circle was so close, but was it close enough?

“I can’t.” He said, and jumped overboard.

As Theodore thrashed in the water, he regretted blowing off every opportunity he had in his life to take swimming lessons. All he had to do was make it to shore. Although he still needed to outrun the furies. And there was the matter of that giant briar patch wall surrounding the island. He decided this was a one-crisis at a time situation.

He swam as fast as he could, but did not get far. There was a muffled shriek and something clamped onto his shoulders and wrists. Theodore wrestled to get free but there was too many of them. The three furies worked together to haul him high into the air.

The furies carried him across the lake and to the far shore, where they dumped him on the ground like a load of wet laundry. Theodore flopped upright and fished his glasses out of his pocket to assess the situation. The good news was the furies had carried him over the wall into the Inner Circle. The bad news was that he was surrounded. Épée, the fury who apprehended Theodore on his arrival, was waiting alongside nymphs and fauns armed with cudgels.

“Words come down from the Fair Lady,” Épée said. “She wants to see the intruder.”

“You heard the commander!” The owl fury said. “On your feet, human!”

Theodore’s socks squished in his boots. It was going to be a miserable walk.

“I’m the Ranger Deputy,” Theodore said. “I have a right to be here.”

“Don’t recall asking your opinion,” Épée said.

Without much choice, Theodore was escorted by armed fairies through the Inner Circle. The beauty came as a shock. Immaculate gardens stretched all around him. Topiary sculptures dotted the landscape. Manicured, exotic trees curled their limbs in the air like crescents. Cottages of celadon were scattered throughout, but what was grander was the palace of crystal at the center of the island. Slanted towers rose a cluster of quartz stone. That had to be the fair palace. Theodore wondered if the Inner Circle dungeons were somewhere inside.

Massive bronze doors were pushed open. Épée pushed him inside. The interior was like a cathedral: stone walls arched high along a grand entrance hall. Tapestries hung throughout the hall, ancient heraldry. The same symbol repeated on each, an acorn with a keyhole emblazoned over a blooming oak tree.

“My lady.” Épée called. “This is the human that found its way into your domain. It claims to be the Ranger Deputy.”

Hooves clicked on stone steps. The Fair Lady descended a stair case. She was a faun, but enormous; more than twice the height of Oboe. Her horns curled back along her head and branched into pointed antlers. She was draped in a silk mantle embroidered with that same acorn. Three almond shaped leaves decorated her forehead. She swept across the floor and loomed high over Theodore.

“Greetings Theodore,” she said, her voice rich and husky. The guards knelt. “Welcome to my Fairy Circle.”

“You know who I am?” Theodore said, surprised.

“Certainly. It is my business to know such things.” The faun bowed with an elaborate flourish. “I am Bassoon Woodwind, Fair Lady of the Whirlwood Fey Circle and vassal to his majesty King Xavier Stonewall of Laien.” She rose. Her smile was warm. “You are the Ranger Deputy, and the son of the Hero Champion Lance Grayweather. It is an honor to finally meet you.”

Theodore was disarmed by the show of etiquette. He mangled a stiff bow in return. Something moved overhead. He looked and saw furies scrambling along the rafters above, watching.

“Do not be afraid,” Bassoon said. “My spriggan will not harm anyone I name as guest. I apologize for the reception you have received. Had I known one of the First Born were coming, I would have made certain you were welcomed.” She sighed. “I regret to say relations between our people have been… tense following the violence of the Red Caps. But I believe I have you to thank for putting an end to that. You deserve better treatment than we have given you.”

“It’s fine,” Theodore said. He was happy so long as the guards stopped pointing knives in his face. “Perhaps I ought to have sent word ahead of my arrival. I came in haste because I am worried about a friend of mine. Her name is Oboe. I have reason to believe she is being held here as a criminal.”

“Ah, yes.” The Fair Lady fanned her fingers. “My wayward granddaughter.”

“Granddaughter?!” Theodore said. “You’re related?”

Bassoon ushered him down the aisle of the hall. “To be precise, I am her great, great, great grandmother, but that is too tedious to keep track of.”

It fit. Thistle mentioned the Woodwind family name. Oboe’s broken promise was to a grandmother. “Does… that mean she’s royalty?”

Bassoon restrained a laugh. “Your kings forbid us from wearing crowns long before you were born. Even so, no. My granddaughter deserves no such honor. Here in the Circle, a fairy must earn her title. We bequeath authority based on ability, not blood.”

“Where is she?” Theodore said. “Is she okay? I need to see her!”

There was a flicker of curiosity in Bassoon’s face. “Yes. I have her detained. I’m not certain what your interest is with her, but you should know that she is dangerous. Proven wicked.”

Theodore stopped in his tracks. “She was cleared of charges! She’s innocent!”

“That is not what she tells us,” Bassoon said. “She came to us screaming her guilt. She said she used forbidden magic on a human. This is not the first time, either. When she was young, we stripped her of her name and made her swear to never harm a human again. She is an oath breaker. It is our tradition to execute fairies who confess to crimes so great.”

Theodore clenched his fist. “You’d sentence a member of your own family to death?”

“Given the crime, certainly.” Bassoon mimed weighing scales with her palms. “Justice should not be obstructed by familial ties.” She let her hands fall. “Though, to be honest, it is hard to get attached when you have as many grandchildren as I do. It’s hard enough remembering their names.”

It was difficult for Theodore to imagine what that might be like. The only family he had ever known was his father. Thinking back, he felt ashamed of how little he cared when his father died.

“I understand this is your custom,” Theodore said, measuring his words. “But Oboe does not deserve to die. It didn’t happen the way you think. I want her released.”

Bassoon raised an eyebrow. “I do not think she wants to be released. She came seeking penance. Would you rob her of that?”

That gave him pause. “I want to talk to her.”

“Of course,” Bassoon said to his surprise. With a gesture, she summoned a fury from the rafters to her side. “Épée? Would you be so kind as to escort our guest to see the faun in question?”

The guard groveled at her feet. “I am a vessel for your will, my Lady.”

“Very good. Splendid.” Bassoon stepped aside for Theodore. “I would like to see you afterwards for tea, Deputy.”

Theodore was sick of stairs by the time they arrived at the upper floor of the tower. He expected a dungeon. Instead, he was led into an ornate bedroom filled with cushions and hanging silk veils. There, he found her face down in a pile of pillows.

“Oboe?” he said, touching her shoulder gently.

She woke with a yelp and fell out of bed. Her eyes blinked in disbelief at him.

“Theo?? What are you doing here?!”

“Looking for you!” He said. “I was worried. I thought they were going to hurt you!”

“That’s what I wanted!” Oboe shouted. “But nobody will listen to me!” She hurled a pillow, only for Épée to dodge the attack.

Theodore grabbed her by the arm when she went for a second pillow. “Stop! Oboe, why are you here? Why do you want them to hurt you? You don’t deserve this!”

“Yes I do!” She yanked her arm free. “I promised grandmother I would never ever enchant a human, but I did! She said she would kill me if I did, but she hasn’t done it yet!” She marched up to the door and yelled down the stair well: “I’m waiting!!”

Épée sneered at both of them and moved to stand guard farther down the hall.

“Maybe they know there’s no sense in you dying.” Theodore reached out to her and she pulled away. “What happened with the prince wasn’t your fault. Please come home.”

Oboe covered her face. “I can’t!” She was crying. “You don’t understand! This isn’t the first time! I used my magic on a human before! You shouldn’t come near me! I’m evil!”

He wished she would let him comfort her. “Thistle told me. That was a long time ago. You were just a kid. You didn’t know any better.” He pulled her hands away from her tear-stained face. “You told me before that everyone makes mistakes. I know you. You’re not wicked. You’d never want to hurt anybody”

“Please stop.” Her gaze fell to the floor. “It doesn’t matter if I wanted to hurt anybody. I did anyway. I was too weak to stop myself. If I can’t control my magic, I’m dangerous.” She looked up, her brow arching. “Grandmother gave me a second chance, but I broke my promise. I can’t live like this. I need to do the right thing, Theo. I need to be punished.”

His blood boiled. “I’m not going to let them kill you! We’re getting out of here!”

He grabbed her by the wrist and she pushed him away. “No!! You can’t make me!” She said. How was he going get her out of here if she wouldn’t listen to reason? “I didn’t ask you to rescue me, Theo! You need to leave! Forget about me!”

“I can’t!” He said. “You’re my friend!”

Her tears broke free again, and she wiped them with her arm. Clenching her teeth, she lifted him off his feet. He tried to struggle, but she was stronger than him. She dumped him into the hallway and slammed the door.

Theodore sprang to his feet and found the door locked. “Oboe!” He pounded his fist on the door. “Let me in! Oboe!! Please!”

There was no answer. Theodore kept shouting, but it made no difference.

Theodore sat under the garden gazebo, furious. In every direction he was surrounded by flowers kept with immaculate care. Bushes of blue moon roses lined the garden paths, mingled with hanging sprigs of deep-red amaranth. He glared as the Fair Lady poured him a cup of sweet-smelling jasmine tea.

“Your laws are very clear on this matter.” Bassoon shoveled sugar cubes into her own cup. Given her size, it was less a cup and more of a bowl. “No fairy who uses magic on the royal family will be suffered to live.”

“She was pardoned!” Theodore said, planting his palm on the table. “Cleared of all charges!”

“There is the matter of our own tradition.” She sipped with dignity. “It is disgraceful for a fairy to turn against humans. We are loathe to tolerate such brazen wickedness.”

“Oboe is not wicked!” He said. It angered him how often he had to argue something so obvious. “I don’t care what your customs say. As Ranger Deputy, I am ordering you to suspend any and all execution. I want her released into my care.”

The Fair Lady placed her cup down. “Are you certain that’s wise? Let me remind you, she has a record. Something like this might happen again.”

“It won’t,” Theodore said. “I trust her.”

Bassoon leaned forward, cradling her chin with her finger. She studied Theodore in a way that left him feeling naked. After a moment, she stood up with a sigh.

“Very well,” she said. “I will surrender custody to you.”

That was it? “You will?”

She stared out at some distant topiary. “Far be it for the Circle to refuse an order from our lordship.” She twisted to look at him. “If I may be so bold as to offer a suggestion, perhaps it would best to linger a while before taking the doeling away. She has been… volatile. I doubt she will cooperate unless she is given time to calm down.”

Theodore supposed this much was true. “That’s… sensible.” He knew Oboe would not be happy when he came to tell her she was free to go.

“In the meantime, please partake of the pleasures of our Court. The servants can see to anything you might need.” Bassoon stepped out into the garden to admire her roses. “If you will excuse me, I need to attend to other important matters.” She smiled. “I hope I can expect a social visit from you in the future, Deputy.”

“I…” He felt disarmed. “Of course. Thank you.”

The Fair Lady strolled away, leaving Theodore to watch as his untouched tea cooled. After so much anxiety, it was strange to have a moment of calm.

He got up. Wandering the gardens, he wondered how angry she would be with him. Maybe it was wrong of him to impose this on her, but he knew she didn’t deserve to die. After all she’d done for him and the Whirlwood, she was a hero in his eyes. There had to be a way to convince her of that. Maybe a commemorative plaque to recognize her service. No. That was insensitive. She didn’t have a proper home in which to hang one.

He skipped a stone across the lake. Whatever. She could be angry. It was better than losing her. He grew tired of waiting. She was up in a tower upset and he was down here mulling around. They needed to talk, hash things out. Maybe then things could get back to normal. He made his way back to the palace.

The Inner Circle was eerie in its stillness. Everything was so clean and well kept, it was hard to believe anyone lived here. Perfect, but empty looking cottages dotted the garden path. Even the wind was absent here. His eyes were drawn to a fury in the sky, the only activity he could see. She dived into a landing at the entrance of the palace, dropping a wriggling pooka onto the ground. Theodore watched from afar.

“He told me he was a dungeon inspector!” The pooka said, popping onto his feet. It was Rupert, the jailer Theodore had met earlier.

Épée swiped at him with her talons. “I don’t want to hear it, worm! You let a captive escape! You are an embarrassment to the troop! A stain on our honor!”

“Okay, that’s fair,” Rupert said. “But, in my defense, he was real convincing. Just ask Benny!”

Épée narrowed her eyes. She pulled out a small pipe whistle off her belt, bit it in her beak, and blew. Three notes like a caterwaul. The shadows against a nearby wall deepened into a dark passage. Rupert bristled at the sight of it.

“Wait, wait, wait!” He held his hands out, eyes wild. “You can’t put me in the labyrinth! It was an honest mistake! I’ll do better! Last one, I promise! Give me another chance!”

The fury punted Rupert through the portal. Theodore gasped. Épée turned as he approached.

“Why did you do that!?” Theodore said. “I’m welcomed here now! You didn’t have to punish him!”

Épée rose to her full height. “Stay out of this, human. This is Circle business.”

“This is my fault, not his.” Theodore said. “I tricked him!”

“Do not tell me how to discipline my men.” She snapped her beak at him. “I don’t care what you think. This is fairy land. We do not tolerate weakness here. Leave. Go cower behind your city walls, where you belong.

Épée took wing, disappearing into a high window of the palace, leaving Theodore beside the gate she had opened. It wasn’t fair that Rupert should be punished because Theodore failed to announce himself properly to the Circle. He needed to set this right before he took Oboe home. Theodore stepped through the dark passageway.

Oboe sobbed into her bedding until she ran out of tears. Why did Theo have to find her? He had looked so worried when she threw him out. She didn’t deserve a friend like him. She was a monster, rotten and wicked. Breaking her promise to grandmother proved it. She lost control of her magic and needed to be punished. She was worse than Silas. She was worse than the grossest, most evil, slime covered slug.

Her misery stiffened into anger. Why hadn’t grandmother killed her yet? It had been days and days, but nothing had happened. Serving sylphs came with trays of sweet cakes, grapes, and sliced mango from across the sea. A cleaning pooka fluffed the pillows and changed the sheets. Not a single executioner had come by to say hello and it was starting to make Oboe mad. How long was she supposed to wait?

She pushed herself off the cushion and kicked the door open. “Oh no!! Looks like I’m escaping! I hope nobody stops me!!”

The fury squatting outside her room didn’t care. He glanced at Oboe, then went back to staring off into space.

 “Hey!!” Oboe said. “Are you going to do something or not?!”

The spriggan shrugged. “My job is to keep this room safe. Do whatever you want.”

Oboe grabbed her mane and screamed with her mouth shut. She stomped down the stairs and began bursting into random doorways, startling maids and Titled fairies, until she found grandmother.

“Why are you torturing me?!” Oboe said. “Just kill me already!!”

Bassoon turned toward Oboe. She was standing in a warm solarium, surrounded by wide windows looking out into the bright green sky. Next to grandmother was a startled human in a funny looking uniform.

“There you are,” grandmother said. “I was wondering when you would come.”

“What is this?” The human said. He had a bushy black mustache and a sword on his hip. “You say we are secret, and others are barging in upon us!”

“Um.” Oboe wasn’t sure what she had walked in on.

Bassoon waved her hand. “This is nothing for you to worry about, Crantor. It is only one of my daughters. Pardon us, would you?”

“Your daughter says such things?” He shook his head. “I am never understanding this country. Yes, as you say. We will speak later.” He pounded his chest with a fist and marched from the room.

The door clicked shut and Oboe was alone with her grandmother. The elder faun stepped closer. She towered over Oboe, seeming somehow even taller than on that day at the Tournament of Titles. Oboe felt shaky standing in front of the Fair Lady after so many years, but she couldn’t let herself be scared. It was time to face reality. Puffing out her chest, she looked her grandmother in the eye.

“I was weak,” she said. “I promised you I would never use my magic on a human, but it happened again. You gave me a second chance, and I blew it. I’m wicked.” Oboe got down on her knees. “Please don’t make me wait any longer. I’m ready to die.”

There was a heavy silence, broken by a weary groan from grandmother.

“Do you think it noble to lie down and die?” Her voice harsher than before. “Pathetic. Get on your hooves, you’re making me sick.”

“…Huh?” Oboe said.

“If I had wanted you dead, you’d be dead. I have lived long enough to know better than to squander talent or opportunity.” She helped Oboe to stand. “You, my child, are worth keeping alive.”

“What are you talking about?” Oboe said.

Grandmother drifted toward one of the many windows and opened it. “I’ve been watching you.” She reached out. A raven appeared and lighted on her wrist. “I must admit that I am impressed.”

She turned. Grandmother and the raven both watched her, their heads tilted at the same angle.

“I stripped you of your name and banished you from the circle. Worse than that, I forbid you to work your magic on pain of death.” She stroked the raven’s head with a finger. “Most in your place choose to kill themselves. You did not.” She drew closer. “Here you are, stunted but grown. A weed thriving. Alive! No, more than that. You made yourself the right hand of the Ranger Deputy. You enchanted the crowned prince and got away with it. You stole my prize out from under me, and I could nothing but watch.”

“What prize?” Oboe shook her head. “I didn’t steal anything!”

Grandmother opened her hand. The raven crawled into her palm, melding into the flesh, joining her body and shrinking away into nothing. She curled her fingers.

“Oh, but you did. I had been working for months to secret Prince Perceval away. Right on the cusp of my victory, you snatched his fates for yourself. You enchanted him, but not only that, he pardoned you for the crime!” She savored a chuckle. “Bravo, my daughter. Bravo.”

Oboe stepped back, her jaw slack. “What?” Were her ears broken? “You were trying to enchant Percy? That’s… No. You’re joking. That can’t be true.”

Bassoon smirked. “And Why not?”

“You aren’t wicked! You’re the Fair Lady! You’re the most important fey creature in Laien! You made me nameless because I hurt a human!!”

“It’s charming you think that,” grandmother said. “But no. I took your name from you because you got caught.”

Oboe stared, dumbstruck. It was a perfect day outside, but her world was crumbling.

Bassoon went on. “Your ‘crime’ was that you failed to cover your tracks. You were sloppy. If your prey had gotten away, knights would have come snooping. You put the Woodwind name at risk and embarrassed us in front of the entire Circle. The magic it took to clean up your mess cost me years of life. That is why you were punished.”

Oboe clenched her teeth. “That’s not right! I broke the law! I hurt somebody! That’s why you should be mad! You’re the Fair Lady!! You’re supposed to punish the wicked!”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, my child.” Grandmother closed the window. “All fairies are wicked. Every last one of us.”

Theodore stumbled into the dark, feeling as if his body had been stretched across the whole Whirlwood. The air stunk of blood and excrement. When his eyes adjusted, he found himself standing in a grimy stone dungeon. The walls radiated a faint plum colored light. Cell lined corridors webbed out in all directions.

He heard crying and followed the sound. He found Rupert, weeping on the floor, his face buried in his hands.

“What? Who’s there?” The pooka peeked through his fingers. “Huh?! You!” Rupert thrust an accusing finger. “You’re that dungeon inspector! But you’re not a dungeon inspector at all! You lied to me!” He threw his arms in the air. “You’re just some huckster office guru! Ugggh!!”

Theodore knelt. “I’m sorry I tricked you, Rupert. I came to the Circle worried a friend might die. In any other situation I would’ve waited out due process like a civilized creature. There’s no good reason for you to be punished because of me.”

Rupert’s frown softened. “Well. At least you’re nice about being a no good, vile, weedling cheat. Suppose I can’t stay mad when Benny was so excited about your ideas.” He shook a floppy ear out of his face. “What’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to pull you out of here before the door closed,” Theodore said.

“What door?”

Theodore looked behind him and realized there was no passage back the way he came. “Oh.” He had made a grave miscalculation.

“You didn’t bring a fold-whistle.” Rupert slapped his own forehead. “Nice going, dummy! Now we’re both stuck here!”

A sound echoed off the halls, like groaning steel. Theodore peered down the shadowed corridors and wondered what he had gotten himself into. “Where are we?”

Rupert laughed at him. “The labyrinth! Deepest point in the fold! It’s where the Circle puts you if they really want you to suffer. You want to inspect dungeons? Go nuts!”

Theodore pressed his palm into his face. “Is there a way out?”

“You’re asking me?!” Rupert said. “Really wowing me on this rescue job, boss. How about you try finding the exit yourself and tell me how that works out for you?”

Furrowing his brow, Theodore could think of no reason to argue. He’d learned to navigate the Whirlwood. How much worse could a fairy dungeon be? Rupert followed him with arms crossed as he wandered up and down the maze of corridors. Theodore kept a mental map as they went and groaned as he found himself fed back into the starting chamber again and again.

“It doesn’t make any sense!” Theodore said. It was dawning on him how bad he had screwed up. “There has to be a pattern! A trick! Even the Whirlwood has rules!”

Rupert’s expression was insufferable. “It’s not supposed to have a way out, smart guy. Hallways are rigged to shuffle to keep you lost. Doesn’t matter how clever you are, or how good at lying, nothing short of the right magic is getting us unstuck.”

That was it. Theodore reached into his pocket and pulled out the spool of golden thread Thistle had given him. “This might help.”

Rupert’s eyes lit up. He snatched the thread out of Theodore’s hands. “Where did you get this?!” He sniffed at it in big huffing nostril snorts. “This is alteration magic! Sylph weave? A divining spell! Mother of Magic. Someone gave up a lot of Fates to make this.” He looked up. “Where’s the other end of this?”

“Outside the Circle, near Moss Tub Lake?”

“Oh, that’s perfect!” Rupert uncoiled the tail end and gave it a firm yank. The thread went rigid and shot down one of the corridors, the spool spinning in Rupert’s paws. “If it’s even possible to walk out of here, this will show us!” He handed it back to Theodore and together they followed the string through the twisting corridors.

Wrapping the thread back around the spindle as they went, Theodore passed empty cells and hanging gibbets. His skin crawled as they crossed a row of torture devices wrought in iron: A rack lined with pulleys, chairs threaded with straps and chains, breaking wheels, and a hollow bull of scorched brass. Theodore hoped they were as disused as they looked. At least the prison in the capital was kept relatively sanitary. The path ahead grew dim. The enchanted stone in the wall gave off less light. Delving deeper, they found an intersection of hallways.

“I can’t even see the thread!” Rupert said. “Which way?”

Theodore squinted. “It’s… not going down any of them. It’s leading us into this wall.”

“What??” Rupert let out a wail. “No! I actually got my hopes up I was getting out of here!”

“Wait,” Theodore said. He tugged on the thread, and it moved along the surface of the wall like a fishing line over a pond. Reaching out, his hand passed through as if there was nothing there. “It’s an illusion!”

Rupert hopped through the wall. Theodore heard him gasp and went in after him. Inside was a large round chamber darker than the rest.

“Who… who’s there?” A voice called out. Scratchy and labored. “Is someone there…?”

Theodore leaned into the shadows, pulling Rupert in with him. There was no way of knowing if this was friend or foe.

“Hello?? Is anyone there?” The voice sounded desperate. “I need help! Please! I’m begging you!”

Theodore crept closer, peering into the dark. He found a nymph slumped against the far wall. A broken longsword was pierced through his torso. He was alive, emaciated, and propped against a wall. He scanned Theodore with wild eyes. Theodore recognized the sword. The Grayweather family crest was emblazoned on the hilt. That sword belonged to his father.