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I return to the letter and finish reading.

… have Tin take you north to find Blue. He’ll help you understand your power.

With all my love,

Veralyn

“What the fuck does the drunk have to do with your power?”

“Great question, considering men don’t typically have power, right?”

“Right.”

“So?”

“So, I guess we head north to find Blue and hope he has a fucking clue as to how he can help. Though fair warning, he will most definitely be drunk and quite possibly unconscious.”

“Great.” I fold the letter back up and slip it into my pocket. “How far away is the north?”

“If Blue still haunts the Jolly Emerald, it’ll take us probably all day and night to get there.”

“Or, another option.”

“What, can you fly now?”

“We test out the slippers.”

He snorts. “You’ve only used them twice, and once was by accident. You think I want to be torn into two as you ferry me through the ether on a ray of silver slipper magic?”

“Don’t make it sound so ridiculous.”

“But it is ridiculous, princess.”

“If we can cut down our time by twenty-four hours, shouldn’t we do it? Time is of the essence.”

“Look at you, finding a sense of urgency now.”

“Tin, come on.”

“Fine.” He grumbles to himself and walks over to me in the circle of dead bodies. I try not to look at them, worried that I’ll feel a wave of guilt and grief, or worse, nothing at all.

“How does this work?” he asks.

“I don’t know. When I came back to you, I thought of you and the woods. But I don’t know what Blue looks like.”

“Picture a drunken old man and you’re halfway there.”

“That could be anyone.”

He thinks for a second. “Okay, try picturing the Jolly Emerald. It’s a two-story half-timber building—”

“I don’t know what that means.”

He signs, his breath puffing out into the darkness. “It’s timber framed with straw mixed into clay and packed between.”

“Okay.”

“There’s a wooden sign hanging above the front door, painted with a giant emerald in the corner and the name in script over it.”