I grinned and waved when the dwarves came in, yarn dragging along the floor in fuzzy tentacles.

Then, in marched Porethius Plum, and the chatter in the room died down. The markings on her flesh swam, glittering dust swirling behind her. Another fairy followed; dark-skinned, male, muscular, with wild golden eyes. The mighty pair were a sight to behold, and I stood taller. I waited for Porethius to look for me, to nod in greeting or come say hi. But she headed across the room and began speaking to Trevor in a low voice. My shoulders lost their spirit and I slouched.

The bell knocked against the door again and I tensed when I recognized Cane. He couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else with his rich mahogany hair, but I swallowed at the wild purple of his eyes, memories of the viper-prince slithering through my mind. If Cane had black hair, he and Quinten could have been twins.

A middle-aged man with dark hair and gold eyes walked beside the former Red Prince. I presumed he was the famous Edward Haid Apple had mentioned; the other once-prince. Edward whispered something to Cane, who suppressed a laugh.

“Season’s greetings,” Porethius called above the chatter in the room. I slunk to stand between Zane and Apple when I realized Porethius had other things on her mind than saying hello. Some of the Patrols continued to sneak to the table to fill their bowls with chocolates and mint-powdered popcorn, but everyone else hushed.

“More of the believers who were once safely hidden in the Red Kingdom and surrounding villages have now vanished, like the others.” Porethius’s wings shifted, her forehead creasing. “Gathadriel and I continue to search for the missing believers. But if our numbers persist to diminish at this rate, we’ll be vanquished by—”

I suddenly burst out laughing. All eyes found me then, even hers. Zane looked at me like I’d started singing opera. But everything Porethius said was so depressing.

“Carrier.” It seemed Porethius had finally found it within herself to say hello.

“Sorry,” I said, trying desperately to drop the laughter from my face. “But is this how we all give up? Is this how the sacred truths are wiped clean from Winter? Is this how my orb turns to a stone?” I looked around. “In a meeting?”

The violet-eyed fairy turned toward me. “No one said we were giving up,” she said.

“Oh, really? I couldn’t tell by all that awful stuff you just told us.”

“Trite,” Zane whispered. “Bloody drop it!”

But I looked around at the candlesticks on the shelf tops, the wreaths of garland, and the other festive remnants of a library that had once been. Everyone was quiet, and I knew they were waiting for me to explain myself, but I still took a moment to step to the large table and nudge a peppermint stick. It reminded me of my first visit to Winter. It reminded me of the simplicity of trekking across the snow, village to village, beside Zane. It reminded me of all that had happened since then.