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“Witchling,” Dezi says, “I think perhaps it’s here because you did exactly what it wanted.”

I blink, looking at my vampire in confusion. “Which is what, exactly? Making me run all over Faerie to chase sea monsters and family secrets?” I don’t mean for it to come out so bitter, but the last few days have sucked more than I’m willing to let go.

Khol snorts. “She’s not wrong. If you wanted us to do something in Midnight specifically, you could have said that rather than giving us a funky, half-bullshit map of the entire realm.”

Our puckish quest master swings its antlers toward Khol, and for a split second, the room is full of white noise that creates a loud windstorm in my head. Suddenly, I know as clearly as if it’s been translated straight into my skull by an enchantment.

The stag isn’t mad—no, it’s amused, and maybe a little proud of what we’ve accomplished.

“Fine, I get it,” I grumble. “We did something right, even if I have no idea what, and you came to… say ‘good job’ or give us more shit to do or something, right?”

His answer isn’t in words, but somehow, I get it anyway. The book, its knowledge, and my heritage were the actual targets. The stag thinks we have the weapons to fight what’s coming, but we need to get home in time to set the wheels in motion there. Apparently, solving my mystery there will make room for what is bigger and more urgent in Faerie, which is why the stag has come to us before we returned to the other side of the Veil.

My knees go soft, and I have to lean against the wall as I let that wash over me. I did not expect to be told I was the focus of this shit when it was supposed to be my parents’ suspicious deaths. I’m not sure how to handle that information, but I know in my bones that it’s very uniquely Fae to make us work for our answers only to reveal the debt they incurred.

“We have two more stops on the tour, though. It’s not like Revelin can cancel everything to go back to Briarvale now,” I protest weakly. I know that’s not really a good excuse and that the magical creature is possibly going to say it doesn’t matter. Nothing like the feystag is concerned about the mundane things in our worlds like concert tours or fans; they care for the survival of the realms and shit.

The stag blinks, staring at me as if I’m crazy. I get the impression that he wants me to know that time is not on our side, and we will need to finish in Midnight and make haste back to the other side before the waning crescent. Its eyes narrow, and an icy chill that says we could lose Briarvale to evil entirely if we do not heed its warnings.

Mother. Fucker. Nothing is easy, I swear to the Morrigan’s bloody claws.

Revelin finally breaks the thick silence, his voice dry but strained. “Love the cryptic looks and I guess mind-speak riddles you’re giving our girl, buddy. However, she’s right about what kind of mess it will make if we listen to you. It would be easier for the rest of us to get behind if we knew what the fuck you’re saying, though.”

Dezi glances at the shelves, and then at the stag as he asks, “Is it telling us to arm up and head back home? Is that why this place was named and filled so enticingly with things that would draw us in from the street?”

“It drew us here by using magic.” Khol’s eyes narrow as he points at the stag. “Not cool, dude. That kind of shit is violating as hell, and I don’t give a shit why you did it. You shouldn’t be fucking with our heads if you want us to help you or anyone else. Asking is a pretty standard way to get things, asshole.”

I chuckle as the stag looks ruffled and offended, loving that my basilisk is brave enough to call out a mysteriously powered creature who can possibly erase us. “He’s right, but I get why you did it. At least, I think I do. You wanted us to get things specifically from here, and you’ve made certain we’re picking the right shit. Plus, you have a very specific thing hidden here somewhere we need, right? This is a fucked up treasure hunt now.”

Tiernan grunts, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t like anything about this. Secrets, hidden agendas, random magical shit we can’t take time to vet… It’s all suspicious; Revelin is spot on.”

Ignoring him, the stag turns to look at a pile of cloth in the far corner I hadn’t even noticed. With a burst of silvery light, the creature flicks its head, and the cloth pulls away. It reveals a cache of weapons, books, and gear, all arranged with military precision. I step closer, noting that the weapons are very specific, including a set of knuckle dusters that look suspiciously like they were made for me. There’s a journal bound in what I hope isn’t skin, a deck of cards with symbols I know are Fae runes, and a bundle of candles exactly like the ones on our shopping list. There’s more, but it feels so perfectly matched to the list we made and our preferences that I shiver a little.

I guess Mr. Ghostly Antlers really wants us to survive the Briarvale shit, so we can come back to Midnight.

Fidget pips approval, the first sound he’s made since the stag showed up. That gives me the wherewithal to take another step forward with my hand out. The stag bows its head, inviting me to take what we need. Obviously, this is supposed to happen, and we’re supposed to walk out of the Veil armed to the teeth and ready for whatever is coming.

“I suppose we don’t have an option,” I say, mostly to myself. “We get what we came for, and then get our asses in gear to finish here so we’re back on the bus by tonight. This dude seems to think we need to be at a portal through the Veil by tonight, I guess.”

The stag flicks its ears once, and the amber lights in the room pulse blue for a single beat. My wrists prickle, and I look down to see the moon mark on my palm glowing so bright it’s visible through the bandage.

It’s a warning, and a promise.

I gather the dusters, the journal, and the candles, stuffing everything into my pack. The others each move with the silent coordination of people who’ve been through this before. Tiernan and Revelin search the room until they find the right size containers for the rest of the shit, and Dezi dumps the basket he filled into a bag he picks from a shelf. Khol wrinkles his nose as he rakes a hand through his hair, his expression changing minute to minute as he works through something in his head. I walk over and put my hand on his arm, squeezing to give him support.

When I turn back, the stag is fading, its outline fraying at the edges before it dissolves into a swirl of light and moth-dust. For a heartbeat, I think I see Calyx standing in the corner, her eyes full of the same patient humor as her magical companion. Then the lights in the room return to normal, and we’re alone.

I hate the way magical assholes come and go like bolts of lightning.

However, for the first time since we got to Faerie, I feel a strong sense that I know exactly what direction we need to go in. Instead of stumbling around in the dark, we know where to go and in what order to do things, even if we don’t have the answer about who we’re going to be fighting. Of course, we might if we finish the book and look through the journal, so that’s better than guessing. As I look at my men, I see them all ruminating and realize that maybe I don’t know what’s going to happen in Briarvale, but they might have ideas.

“It’s time to leave,” I say, breaking their concentration as I grin broadly. “Rev has a concert to do, and then we need to get the fuck out of Faerie.”

“What am I going to do about the tour?” Rev says with a frown. “That shit is gonna be a mess.”

My lips curl up with glee as I reply, “Leave it to Amethyst. Say nothing until we’re across the divide, and once we are, text her with an excuse and leave her to clean up the mess until later. Feels like a fitting punishment for her bullshit that stopped us at every turn during the front half of it, yes?”

“Fuck, yeah,” Khol says, holding his fist out for me to bump. “Dump it all on that bitch. She did nothing but work her ass off to make Sassy uncomfortable and angry while we were guests of the realm. She deserves the suffering that will cause.”