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“Famous last words,” whispered Violet.

Emerald watched the three of us bicker back and forth, and before we could stop her, she stepped free of the protection of the woods we were hiding in, into the sunlight. Shimmering reflections of green bounced off the dull, dark-grey weathered wood of the buildings as she marched up to them and, bold as brass, knocked on one of the doors.

The three of us huddled in the darkness as I hissed at her and waved like a maniac for her to get back to the safety the shadows afforded us. She pointedly ignored me, though the sun beamed through her translucent skin and cast her shadow in the green she shared her name with as she waited for the ghosts of the village to answer her knock. When it didn’t come fast enough, she knocked again.

A young woman appeared, walking around the dilapidated barn, a large, handwoven wicker basket full of damp, greyed linens on her hip. Her long brown hair, pulled back into a thick braid, swayed behind her as she met Emerald eye for eye.

“If you’re here to rob me, there’s nothing left to take unless ye’ve got eyes on the laundry. And I’ll thank you to leave it unspoiled unless you plan to hang it up for me.” Her accent was thick, distinctly lilting, and clipped but not wholly unfamiliar.

Emerald turned to the woman and flashed something across her skin, something close to a salutation. The young woman tilted her head and rubbed the tip of her pointed ear with her free hand.

“One of them that lost their voice, eh? Well, sad to hear. Still, nothin’ to be robbed.” She dropped the laundry and began hanging a line between the ramshackle cottage’s hook and the well. “Barely any food either, if ye be hungry.”

She paused in her chore and eyed Emerald as the three of us coiled to strike the moment she even made a move to hurt our friend.

“Are you here to do mischief or to rest? Tell me true. I’ll know if you’re lying, even with your images.” From her shrewd glare, I believed her and hoped Emerald wasn’t about to lie. The woman was patient; she waited out whatever Emerald was saying, then took some time to consider it before answering. “Well. Tell your friends to come out then. I don’t have much to share, but what I do have, I will, and then you get gone before the end of dawn.”

Emerald turned, and a bright smile was reflected on her beaming face. She motioned for us to join her, and reluctantly, we did.

I kept my eye on the shrewd woman, suspicion an easy iron to hold. She was Fae, I could sense it. Could see vaporous threads dancing about her just out of the corner of my eye like a corona. There one moment and, when you focused on it, gone in the next.

As I drew closer to her, she turned eyes the color of copper patina on me, soft mint rimmed in a circle of darkest oak brown. A spray of freckles adorned her face like the constellations I had wondered about every night. She radiated a warmth laced with a chilled dampness that seemed so familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

“I’m Twilight Jackdaw.” She extended her hand first to me, blatantly bypassing Emerald, and I noted it. Did she think I was a comrade? Was it some misplaced Fae superiority? Or did she think I was the leader of the ragtag crew at her doorstep?

“Nice to meet you, Twilight.” I shook her hand. It was calloused from work, though I noted the thickest callouses rimmed the knuckles on her palm where a handle of something would have rubbed it raw and left a thick pad.

“Jackdaw is fine. Twilight seems so delicate.” She smirked. “Not sharing your name? Smart. No need to be suspicious here.”

“Hate to say it, lady, but I’ve heard that line before.”

“I bet ye have.” Her eyes flicked up the great tower of Iron Thorn, but she didn’t acknowledge him beyond that. “And that’s smart. I haven’t earned your trust, and I’m in a position of advantage as I know this area better than you do. Well, I’ll call you the Gold One. And when and if ye decide to give me your name, that’ll change. I’ll take nothing from you you don’t offer, as long as you do the same. Do we have an accord?”

“Is that some kind of oath?” I narrowed my eyes at her, and she chuckled with bitter amusement.

“I like you, Gold One, you’re a little strange for a Fae, but takes all kinds, I guess, as they say. No, just a simple agreement. No strings. No threads to unpick. Just a simple agreement over a handshake.”

I didn’t feel magic move. I didn’t feel the sparkling fireworks holding their breath as I had in the garden with Oaken Rose or in Havenhome with Pops. I tried to focus, tried to reach out to magic to see if there was a trap. All that came back was the echo of heartbeats, though whether they were my own or something else, I didn’t know.

“Thanks, Jackdaw. I’ll take that agreement. We’re not here to cause you any problems. Just tired. Just want to rest. Maybe wash up in your well if you’re okay with that. And then we’ll be out of your hair.”

“Fine with me. And your friends?” She turned to Emerald, Green Man, Iron Thorn, and Violet. “Will you take the same agreement, humans?”

Violet narrowed her eyes on Jackdaw. “A Fae asking a human for their opinion? That’s a first.”

“And probably not the last, little courtier.”

“How’d you know that?” Violet barked back.

“You mean aside from the imperious way you’re strutting around?” She shrugged. “You’ll find things out here in the wilds are a bit different from the courts.”

“It’ll be a hard sell to have us buy that Fae out here are cuddly, my lady,” piped up Green Man as he took Emerald’s hand as if to challenge Jackdaw to part them.

“Didn’t say that. That’d be a lie if I did. I don’t lie. Find it the peak of cowardice—”

“—that’s exactly what a lying Fae would say,” Violet spat to herself.

“—and poor manners. Either way. The country Fae aren’t cuddly; we’re just not the courtiers. If you’re lucky enough to meet the country folk, give them a chance to surprise you, little courtier. Keep a dagger in your hand, but an open mind.” Jackdaw winked at Violet. “Either way, I can’t let you past the door if you’re not going to agree to the basic courtesies of hospitality, though. So, your choice. Come in and have some stew or sit out here and eat moldy straw from the barn. Up to you. I won’t take that choice from you.”