“She’s my friend,” I said, pulling my first foot up again to sit cross-legged, the pain in my knees utterly gone. “She’s taken it upon herself to live among my enemies as a spy. She wants to go back, but she needs eyes with her. I want you to go with her. All of you.”

Sidereal looked at Ceri, then me. “Why would I help her?” he said, anger in his lisp.

“I brought you to this, not her.” Sidereal ran his hand forward from his chin outward, and guessing that was fairy for “say your piece,” I took a breath. “She lives in Kalamack’s gardens.”

His silver eyebrows rose again. He was interested, and I felt a stirring of hope. “There are no birds, no pixies, nothing,” I said, and Sidereal glanced up into the tree, clearly wanting to share this with someone. “You could live there unnoticed, spying for her. For my benefit.”

Sidereal’s wicked grin made me shiver. “That might be acceptable to my people,” he lisped. “I want to leave someone here, though.”

Oh, really? Curious, I held my filthy foot, trying to warm it. “Why?”

The fairy’s shoulders slowly rose and fell as he tried a human shrug. “To better kill you if you plan treachery.”

I smiled, liking his honesty, and after a shocked moment, he smiled back. It was a fair answer. Behind him, Ceri was teaching Jenks’s kids a song of loss to help them deal with their grief. The four-part harmony was enough to break your heart.

“I won’t be able to get Jenks to go for it, so pick someone who can hide well,” I said, and he hissed. I looked at him in alarm until I realized he was laughing. “Talk to your people,” I said as I stood and a whiff of pixy and witch came up from the coat. My hand came out, and he stared at it. “I have to get big,” I explained. “This is likely the last time I’ll see you my size. Big people clasp hands when they meet and part in goodwill.”

His hand came up, and we touched. “In goodwill,” he said, brow pinched.

Sidereal’s fingers were too big around mine, and curiously rough. I felt like I was shaking hands with my dad. “And trust,” I said and our hands parted.

The fairy smiled, making me shiver. Stepping back, he tangled his foot in the silken line, but then he paused. “When my people part, they say gentle updrafts.”

“Gentle updrafts, Sidereal,” I said softly. “I wish this hadn’t happened, but maybe some good can come of it.”

Long face quirking in a terrifying smile, he glanced up into the tree. “Who’s to say why the Goddess chooses.” He plucked the silken strand, and with the signal, he was hoisted up.