"So if the story needs a happy ending," I said, speaking slowly. "Tell me how we do that. Specifically. Step by step."
Idir twirled her finger in the air. "Well, okay so imagine a tapestry, right? And all the threads are going one way, swoosh swoosh swoosh, but then one thread—that's you, babe—goes YOINK in the wrong direction and now the whole thing is like pfshhhh."
"That's not a step. Idir, I need a plan. I need to get back home. I don't want to stay in this shithole any longer," I glanced at Cruit and quickly back at Idir.
Her attention was already focused on the ceiling. "Ooh, have you ever noticed how moths are like an analogy for, like, death? That's so sad. Anyway, what were we talking about?"
Mags was looking for something on the shelf in the room. I stepped in front of her.
"I need help."
"You and everyone else." She continued walking. I followed.
"Idir is useless. She told us we have to fix the story, but I have no clue where to start. If I don't fix it, apparently everything goes to shit. The world ends or implodes or whatever and I'm stuck here forever. How am I supposed to make two people fall in love with each other?"
Mags wiped her hands on her apron and leaned against the counter. Cy was arguing with the goblin about salt distribution again.
"Doug," Mags called across the room. "Get over here."
Doug lifted his head from his beanbag pile. A paperback was resting on his snout. "What now?"
"The human needs help."
Doug rose to his feet, taking his time and using his whole body. He lumbered over.
"What's the situation?"
I explained it again: the broken story, the happy ending. The part where I accidentally took Wesley's role and the whole plot is now upside down.
Doug nodded slowly, as if deep in thought or with a stiff neck. "Had something similar once. Hero was supposed to slay me, right? But his horse got scared at the cave entrance and threw him off a cliff."
"Did he die?"
"Oh yeah. Very dead. But his replacement came like a week later so it worked out."
"And this is the same... how?"
"I'm saying sometimes you wait and the story sorts itself out."
"Have you tried true love's kiss?" This was said to me by a harpy perched on the rafters. She was preening her wing.
"I am not kissing anyone," I said. "I don't think that even applies to this situation."
"Kill the rival." This was from the goblin at the bar, who I hadn't realized was listening. He said it nonchalantly.
"There's no rival.”
"There's always a rival. Kill them. Problem solved. My grandmother ate a rival once," the goblin continued. "Well, he wasn't a rival exactly. He was a knight. Took a week to pass the helmet." He spoke these words with great affection.
"What about a blood oath?" One of the selkies had wandered over, soaking wet. "You open a vein, swear on the old tide, and bind your fate to the story's.” She shrugged. "Messy, but effective."
“I'm not opening a vein.”
"Sacrifice a goat," someone whispered from a shadowy corner that I couldn't see.
"I'm not sacrificing a goat!"
"Two goats?"
"WHAT?"
Mags raised her hand. The room became silent.
"Mai," she said.
Cy raised his head from behind the counter. "Oh, Mai. Yeah. She'd know."
Doug nodded. "Mai would know."
"Who the hell is Mai?" I asked.
Mags retrieved her pot, which Cy had filled with some smelly beverages. "Old friend. Sort of. She had a thing with—." She looked at Cy. "What was the princess's name? The one from Scáilrún?"
"Fiadh."
"Right! Fiadh. Mai had that whole situationionship with Fiadh." She waved her hand. "If anyone understands how these stories break and how to fix them, it's Mai."
"Great." I felt the first real flicker of hope. "Where is she?"
Mags, Cy, and Doug all shared a glance.
"She's on an island," Mags said.
"Okay?
"In the dark lake. Within the Forbidden Forest."
I stared at her. "The Forbidden Forest. As in, the forest that has the word forbidden in its actual government issued name. Couldn't it be the Friendly Forest? The Forest of Sunshine and Kittens? The Let's All Hold Hands and Live Forest. It had to be—" I rubbed my face. "Fine. Dark lake. Forbidden Forest. Creepy island. Cool. Normal quest stuff. Let's go."
"I'm out," Mag said. "I'm covering Fenwick's patrol shift. Again. Because his hip is—." She made air quotes with her massive hands. "—Acting up."
I looked at Doug.
"I would love to," he said. He sounded like he meant it. "But I'm back on rotation this week. If I miss another shift Todd will have my tail. Literally. He's a drake."
"Okay, fine. Humans it is," I popped my knuckles. "Gimme ten minutes."
Wallace was my first pick. Wallace had his shit together. He was competent and knowledgeable, and he didn't get distracted or fall asleep when the world was ending. No lesbian drama. No interviewing the enemies.
I came across him in a secluded nook, perched on a stool near a beanbag chair. Percy was coiled up like a shrimp, his cape draped over his head. Distressed sounds came from the cape at irregular intervals.
"Wallace," I said. "I need—"
"Shh." He held up one finger without looking at me. His gaze was on the prince. "He's just settled."
I lowered my voice. "I need your help. There's a woman on an island who might know how to fix the story. It's in the Forbidden Forest, which sounds bad because it is bad, but I need someone who—"
"I cannot leave him."
"He'll be fine," I reassured Wallace.
He reached over and adjusted the cape, which had slipped off the prince's shoulder. His hand lingered for a moment longer than necessary. "Should His Highness wake in an unfamiliar location without a familiar presence, the consequences are... considerable."
Percy let out a muffled sound, somewhere between a whimper and the word "no." Wallace's whole body tilted slightly toward the sound.
"I wish you safe travels," he said.
Right.
I managed to locate Wesley twenty minutes later, as I needed to search through four rooms, a rock-hewn corridor, and an entity that I believe to be a bathroom, but turned out to be another monster. That was an awkward conversation.
He was in the central outdoor area. The area, which served as a clearing, was located between the main lodge and the cliff face. It was illuminated by suspended lanterns, and it seemingly was a gathering place for pixies in the evening.
Six pixies circled him, casting a pale light. Their tiny wings were humming, and their tiny faces were delighted.
"Fox!" He was out of breath. "You must forgive me, I cannot greet you properly as my legs belong to the Fae."
Wesley was moving his feet in a way that was beyond his control. They were stamping and twirling with a mastery that seemed to belong to someone else, as if a more experienced being was using his body as an instrument. But his arms were his own, flowing and sweeping, adding flourishes that the dance hadn't asked for.
"I need you to come with me."
"Ah." He pirouetted, and it was actually graceful. "That presents a difficulty. I believe I offended the small, luminous one. It seems I must dance until they tire of me or I die. If this is how I meet my end, the ballads will be glorious.”
I stared at him. He was beaming. Wesley was trapped in a magical death circle and he was having the time of his life.
"Tell Mother I died beautifully," he called as I was leaving. "And with tremendous rhythm!"
So, a quick review in case you weren't paying attention, everyone was useless.
Percy: unconscious. Wallace: refused to leave his side. Wesley: cursed to death by pixies, but thrilled about it. Idir: moths. Doug: employed. Mags: covering Fenwick's goddamn hip.
This left exactly one person.
I glanced across the room at Cruit. She sat in a chair near the far wall with her spine rigid, hands folded, her chin up, staring at nothing in a way that only a master of such an art could manage.
She gave every appearance of complete ignorance of my very existence.
Negative. Definitely not. I was not asking her. She didn't want to be anywhere near me. Frankly, the feeling was mutual. But complicated. Everything was confusing, and I didn't have the emotional resources to handle her at that moment, given all the other things on my plate.
I returned to Mags.
"I'll go alone. How bad can it be?"
She was meticulously tallying something on her notepad, without once glancing up. "You're gonna go to the Forbidden Forest by yourself?"
"I'm a big girl."
"The forest causes hallucinations." She turned a page. "The lake is cursed. The island moves. The last person who went alone came back convinced he was a salmon. He still thinks he's a salmon. We had to build him a tank."
"Cool. Love that for him. I'm built different, though."
"You'll need someone to watch your back while you cross the water. The things in that lake don't like boats. Or people. Or anything, really."
"So what am I supposed to do?"
Mags didn't answer. She just jutted her chin toward the far side of the room.
I looked.
Cruit was staring at me. As soon as I turned away, she looked elsewhere, not at all inconspicuous.
"I don't think she wants to be around me right now."
"She hasn't stopped watching you since you walked in here."
"That's because she's mad at me and is thinking about different ways to torture me," I sighed. "Mags, are you sure you can't come with me?"
"Mm." Mags returned to her notepad. "My friend Orla was furious with her mate for forty years. Wouldn't speak to her. Wouldn't look at her, which, you know, with a Gorgon that's actually doing you a favor. Anyway, Orla's mate finally gets fed up and eats Orla's entire stone garden. Crunch crunch crunch. Seventy-three statues!"
"Why would she—"
"Because she wanted Orla to look at her. Even if the looking was angry." Mags finished the bookkeeping. "Orla was so furious she bit her mate's tail off. They still tell the story at solstice gatherings." She paused. "They've been together ever since. Four hundred years this spring."
I stared at her. "So your advice is to... eat her stuff and lose a tail?"
"My advice is that anger and indifference are not the same thing. She's angry. That's something." Mags placed a hand on my shoulder. "Indifference is when you should worry."
She walked away.
I stood there for a minute, and then I looked at the princess again.
"Fucking hell."
I strolled up, nonchalant, my hands buried in my pockets. It was just a girl asking another girl to accompany her into a cursed forest. Nothing to write home about.
"Hey."
She avoided looking at me, instead fixed her gaze on the distant wall.
"So. There's this island. In a lake. In a forest that causes hallucinations. I gotta go there. It's probably going to be awful. There might be death. Imminent death, specifically. So, you know. Fun stuff. You in?"
Cruit slowly turned her head. Proud even now. Ugh.
"I watched you," she said, folding her hands tighter in her lap, "Ask the Minotaur. The dragon. The cyclops. The goblin. A selkie. Your brother."
"He was a long shot, I'll give you that."
"And now, having exhausted every creature in this establishment, you come to me." She raised her head. "I see no reason to accompany you anywhere."
"Cool." I shrugged. "It's just, you know. Your kingdom. Your people. The whole happy ending thing that keeps them all alive. But yeah, you're right. You sit this one out. I'll handle it."
Something flickered in her eyes, which she quickly suppressed.
"I am certain you will manage. You are, after all, so very capable."
"Great. Glad we agree." I turned around. I started walking. I counted four steps. Maybe five. I was feeling it and wanted to see if I was right.
Six steps.
"Wait."
I pretended I didn't hear her.
"Cassian."
I slowed down, but didn't stop. I didn't turn.
Behind me, the sound of a chair being pushed back. Quick footsteps. Faster than a princess should move when she doesn't care.
"I will go."
I stopped. Then I turned around. She was closer than I expected. Her breathing was slightly labored.
"Yeah?"
"Not for you." She straightened the front of her dress. "For my kingdom. For my people, who require their sovereign to act when lesser beings will not."
"Sure. Obviously."
"I am not doing this for you."
"Didn't say you were."
She gave a stiff nod. "Then we are agreed."
I turned and started walking toward Mags. Cruit fell into step beside me. Close enough that her sleeve brushed my arm. I glanced at her.
"You can stop begging me now. I’ll let you come with me. I'm getting second-hand embarrassment." I felt a surge of excitement when I watched her cheeks turn pink. God, she was too easy.
"I beg your—I was not begging!"
"You totally were."
"I have never begged for anything in my life. I am a princess of Tolamn. We do not beg. We certainly do not beg commoners—"
"It's okay, Cricket. I won't tell anyone."
"There is nothing to tell! And do not call me —." She stopped herself. She clenched her jaw. She smoothed her dress again.
I couldn't help but smile.
"You coming or not?"
She walked ahead of me on purpose so that she could be in front.