“And now?” Croi prompts.

“Now I don’t know,” Ceara bursts out. “She appeared in front of us so simply, without ostentation or vanity, without pride, and”—she chokes—“without guilt. She welcomed us to Talamh and wished us a peaceful stay.”

“That’s it?” Tinder asks.

“That’s it,” Ceara answers. “She doesn’t feel evil, which confuses me. If she’s not evil, then what have I been doing all this while? Who have I been fighting against?”

Ask her about the kin she met in the middle of the forest.

Croi clears her throat, wondering how best to word the question so she’s not pricked by the thorny princess. “When we were traveling to the Tine camp, you stopped to meet a kin under a tree. Who was she?”

“Eh?” Tinder perks up and stares at Ceara. “Who did you meet?”

Ceara looks discomfited by the question and fidgets on the chair. “That’s none of your concern.”

“Well, it sort of is,” Croi replies, leaning forward.

“Should I tell her?” Croi asks her other self.

It’ll be a risk.

“Let’s live dangerously,” Croi tells her.

“Elaborate!” the princess commands.

“Don’t rush me. You might not like what I have to say,” Croi warns her. Ceara sneers but settles down. A breeze curls its way through the open doors of the balcony, and the glass chimes hanging above move, as if heralding the upheavals Croi’s words will bring.

“Say it already!” Tinder is impatient.

Still, Croi hesitates. Perhaps she ought to let them be. After all, she’s going to fade. What’s the point of creating chaos when she won’t be around to fully enjoy it? A moment later she shakes her head. Why shouldn’t she create chaos before she leaves?

“First, I’ll tell you a secret.” She smiles at them, and when the pixie and the princess look confused, she continues. “I can see magick. It appears to me like a river rushing around the boundaries of a body or object.” She licks her lips and gathers her words. “I saw the magick that cast the summoning spell that compelled me to begin my journey from the human world to the Otherworld. I saw the magick that made the Redcap caravan invisible. I saw the magick of the kin you met under the tree in the forest. Guess what all these three things have in common?”

Tinder’s eyes widen, and she turns to Ceara, who has gone pale.

“Are you going to say I’m lying? But what to do, kin can’t lie,” Croi continues, blithely ignoring the Fire Princess’s distress. “So, tell me, who is this kin? Why is she summoning me? Why is she casting spells on Redcap caravans? Why are you consorting with her?”

Instead of answering, Ceara gets up and stalks to her room, slamming the door on her way in. Tinder and Croi are left to stare at each other.

“She likes to run away when she doesn’t have the answers, doesn’t she?” Croi muses out loud. She gets to her feet and dusts off her dress—not that there’s any dust on it.