The clouds had departed. The sky was radiant with a spotless blue, and the stately walls of Larchester Castle fairly glowed in the sunlight. Yet beneath the lofty towers, where dark passages wound their way into the subdued serenity of the earth, the cellars of Larchester Castle remained in quiet obscurity.

Deep within one of the stygian passages, a soft yellow light now appeared in the darkness, illuminating the walls like the faint glow of a wisp. Rounding a corner there now came a small, pallid child bearing with her a lantern. And following cautiously in her wake were Lindsey and Hae-jin.

It had been nearly a week since the storming of Ardgar Castle. In the aftermath of the battle, the Lady Edith had been discovered deep within the heart of the keep. The entire room in which she had been found was a complete shambles, the walls blackened with soot and every scrap of furniture reduced to kindling. And Edith herself had been found in the middle of it all lying senseless across the floor, her body covered in small, sooty burns. As it turned out, her two green clad knights had followed in the wake of Hae-jin’s men, and had promptly spirited Edith’s body away as soon as it was discovered. And no word had been heard of the woman since.

Until now, that is.

That morning, Lindsey and Hae-jin had been summoned in the name of the Lady Edith to her chambers, which apparently were located deep within the bowels of the castle. It seemed an odd residence for a lady of quality, to be sure. All around them stone lined arches created a claustrophobic tube of masonry as they followed their diminutive guide ever deeper into the darkness. At last they came upon a door set within a recess of the passage. As the child opened the door the passage was flooded with a muted orange light which seemed painfully bright against the gloom, and Lindsey and Hae-jin were ushered inside.

As they crossed into the room the pair abruptly froze in their tracks at the sight before them.

There, reclining on a sort of divan, was the Lady Edith. Her eyes were closed, and she was stretched out on her back, nude save for a folded silken sheet which covered most of her torso. Her immaculate skin was now covered everywhere with swollen pink welts where the burn marks had been.

Yet what had so jolted Lindsey had not been Edith herself, but rather her attendants. In one corner of the room two sets of iridescent green armor were stacked up neatly, and stooping now over the woman were two human skeletons, unsupported and erect as they sat on stools beside Edith. Each held a small bronze bowl in one fleshless hand, and they appeared to have been rubbing some mixture of oil and herbs into the welts on Edith body. As the door opened the ghastly figures had stopped and turned sharply to glare at the intruders. For a moment they stared at Lindsey and Hae-jin, regarding them balefully with deep, empty sockets before returning again to their task.

As they did so, Edith’s large eyes fluttered open. She twisted her head to one side to look at her guests, and nodded to them in acknowledgement with a particular stiffness that seemed wrought more from lingering pain than any amount of hauteur.

“Sir Robin Greyflower, Lindsey Fluger. Thank you for heeding my summons. I apologize for exposing you to these graceless circumstances. I do hope my Sandernacks did not alarm you.”

Here she gestured off handedly to the two skeletons who were again busying themselves massaging her skin with fingers of bare bone, seemingly oblivious now to their mistress’s guests.

“They are simple automatons, harmless and obedient. Mineralized remains such as these form an ideal substrate with which to fabricate arcanic automata, particularly when one has an intact and complete structure to work with. Pay them no mind.”

The woman went on.

“Obviously, what you have seen here must remain confidential. Likewise, my involvement in this whole affair should pass without further comment or discussion. My work here is finished. You shall not hear from me or be summoned to my presence again, at least not for the present. Sir Robin, it is your duty to maintain vigilance here in Linster. Gurth is dead and his curse is dispelled, yet the shadow of the desert persists. Linster was not the only place where Gurth had wrought his wicked machinations. His villainous spellcraft has ensnared many a land, and has secured many sources of slaves for his masters. Breaking the curse of Linster was the key to unravelling the entire fabric of this witchcraft, not just here but everywhere that has been touched by the plagued hand of Gurth. This is a hard blow to his masters, and they will soon be enduring shortages of labour, which will greatly impede their ambitions. This is why the liberation of Linster was so critical, and why the Good Folk chose to involve themselves at this time by engaging the likes of us. But it is only a delay. The witches have been slowly gaining momentum for centuries, and the deeds we have wrought here in Linster will not alone be sufficient to stop them. This is why you must remain vigilant, Sir Robin. The freedom of Linster is in your charge for safekeeping.”

Lindsey had been listening carefully all this time. Now, she spoke up.

“That’s great. I just hope the Good Folk will have Hae-jin’s back when the time comes. But what do you want from me? Did you bring me all the way down here just to tell me to keep my mouth shut?”

Edith met Lindsey’s eye reservedly.

“I expect you to maintain proper discretion regarding everything which has transpired between us. The rest is not mine to decide.”

As predicted, Lindsey did not see Edith again after that. Nor did she even see much of Hae-jin, for that matter. Hae-jin remained heavily involved in the king’s ongoing campaign, while Lindsey had been spending most of her time with Falknir caring for Horatio Dackery, who was making a slow and painful convalescence. Somehow, over the course of their fractious adventures together Falknir and Dackery had become loyal friends, and for her own part Lindsey had grown to care deeply for Dackery. Here was a man who had made it his sole ambition in life to secure his own immortality. Yet in a characteristically weird twist of the human spirit Dackery had repeatedly risked his life nonetheless for the sake of others, not the least of which was herself. Indeed, in that terrible moment in the gatehouse of Ardgar, Dackery had very nearly thrown his life away on Lindsey’s behalf. And Lindsey held him in the highest regard for it. In fact, one could even say that she loved him. She loved him in a polite, hands-off and asexual sort of way, the kind of love that is reserved for the most sacred of friendships..

Joan had been assisting Lindsey and Falknir in their care of Dackery, applying her keen arts as she rotated between him and others of the many wounded who were under her care. The young Earl of Donnock was recuperating quickly, and by now even Dackery’s recovery was certain. Which was timely, for Lindsey herself was soon to depart Linster. With both Gurth and the Earl of Wickhowe dead, the war was winding down quickly. The king had been persuaded to issue a pardon to the remaining rebels, with the sole exception of the barons Gatehurst and Kirkweald. All those who defected and renewed their oaths of fealty to the king were to receive clemency, and as their allies deserted them one by one the two barons at last fled to Tollardy with only a handful of steadfast supporters. Likewise, the king had grudgingly honored Hae-jin’s promise to the Drixi, albeit with a certain exasperation which was due more to Hae-jin’s original autonomy in bringing the matter about than anything else. Having gathered up the last of their stragglers, the Drixi had departed in good order and flown southwards back to their homeland, where the news of the debacle and terrible losses which had occurred in Linster was not at all well received. The Arbiters responded to the wrath of their people by laying the blame for the entire forlorn enterprise squarely on the shoulders of Gurth and his imperious masters, and vowed to reject any future overtures from the witches. In Linster, the scattered remnants of Gurth’s forces were doggedly hunted down by the soldiers of the king. Over the following months most were either killed or else fled Linster’s borders, though rumors continued to persist of small bands of men and Zard lurking the woods and prowling the fields at night or else hiding the wilderness near the southern marches.

In the great cathedral of Larchester, the high altar had been left as it was, its shorn face preserved and the broken corner placed in a gilded crystal reliquary at the foot of the altar, with the infused medallion from Harin’s Vault displayed for all the world to see. All should remember the deeds which were done on that day, lest in forgetting the Curse of Gurth should one day return. But as the months passed it became more and more apparent that the curse was gone for good. Bountiful harvests passed into mild winters with little sickness, and near the village of Tresham the wheels of Mortimer’s Mill turned faithfully once more. And Hugh Mortimer himself spent the rest of his days in prosperity and comfort. The Army of Robin Goodfellow had gradually dispersed, and Hae-jin himself was granted an estate and named Earl of Tresham. And not long afterwards, Hae-jin was wedded to Joan Greyflower.

After long and arduous haggling with the Bird (and each other), the Wogs had at last settled upon a grand sum of four thousand, five hundred and one silver marks. They made their new home in Linster, having also been gifted a large house not far from the town of Elmstead, which quickly fell into disrepair, with the gold of the Wogs reportedly buried in the dirt beneath it. Will Little and Rob Sykes were each granted enough land to raise them to the status of gentlemen, and likewise Sykes eventually moved to Hae-jin’s estate as his chief retainer.

Not long after the battle of Beckby, Barri the giant began his long journey home, shepherding with him a large flock of sheep gifted by the king. He had been offered many other rewards as well, and had briefly considered accepting something shiny to put on top of his monument. But in the end he had decided against it, feeling that someone was sure to pinch it eventually, and what good is a monument if folks are always nicking bits of it away? For her own part, Ursilda had steadfastly refused to accept any reward at all, and instead simply disappeared into the wilderness, grumbling to herself about how much difficulty she would have with her cubs after they’d been spoiled for so long by load of silly dryads.

No one had seen or heard anything at all of Bartholomew Fox-Goodburrow since the storming of Ardgar Castle. To all appearances he had completely disappeared. Yet somewhere in Linster, secreted away in some dank, forgotten hollow, a small Fox was perched over a dark tome, pouring studiously over its pages. Behind him a third tail gently swished the ground in a room full of evil treasures, while Tom Oates sat sullenly in a corner, waiting on the Fox’s whim as the world outside went on without him.

It was one fine day, nearly two weeks after the death of Gurth, that Lindsey herself at last made her goodbyes. She stood now alone on a parapet of Larchester Castle, wearing a simple dress of an ordinary Linsterish woman, with the remainder of her meagre possessions tucked in a travelling bag. The wind whipped her hair as she gazed across the green fields and rolling meadows of Linster in peace, glowing like a sea of emeralds in the golden light of the sun.

Beside her there was a sudden beating of wings, and with a flurry of golden plumage the Bird now alighted beside her.

“Well well well well well! Here we are at long last! Are you ready to leave?”

“Um...yeah. About that. In everything that’s happened we’ve never really had a chance to talk. I think now’s a good time.”

“Eh? What’s there to talk about?”

“I think you know. You’ve been avoiding me for almost two weeks now. It’s time we had it out. What happened back there at Harin’s Vault? I was left behind. Where were you when I needed you?”

The Bird squirmed slightly.

“Well, er, there were a few issues that cropped up…”

“Don’t play any more games with me. I’ve kept faith with you this whole time. I want the truth.”

The Bird appeared almost to shrivel before her. Then at last he spoke.

“Well, er, if you must know….you see, it so happened…..well, in point of fact….oh dash it all! I was asleep, alright? If you really must know, I was asleep. I slept through the whole bally thing! It had been a terribly long day and I had made so many gates and I was so terribly exhausted. By the time I realized anything was wrong Dackery had come and you were already gone. It’s all completely my fault, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am for it.”

For a moment, Lindsey was speechless. That all her adventures over the last month and a half had been the result of something so simple, so stupid, and so venial was more than she could quite comprehend for a moment. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Then, with a sigh she put down her bag and gingerly put her arms around the astonished avian. Somehow she had managed to live through everything, and worrying about the rest was pointless now. There was simply nothing left for it but to forgive the Bird.

A short while later the Bird traced a square in the flagstone walk, his beak scraping across the stones only lightly. With a resounding crack a few stones fell away through space and landed somewhere else with a thud, and shortly thereafter Lindsey herself slipped through with the Bird.

Lindsey now found herself in a forest of giant ferns. As she looked around herself she realized that she recognized the place. Great blades of verdant grass towered into the sky above, and just across from her was a familiar grove of scarlet toadstools.

And seated cross-legged beneath one of the toadstools, was Elred.

The Bird hopped over to where the elf sat, chatting merrily as he did so.

“I apologize for yet another detour, but Elred wished to speak to you once more.”

Lindsey walked over to the the others, and curled up on the moss with them.

“Hello again, Elred. It’s been a while.”

The elf smiled benevolently, yet enigmatically as always. Without a word, he reached over into the moss beside him and plucked up a long axe with a bright blade of violet metal. Lindsey recognized it instantly. It was her own battle axe. Her mind flashed back to the terrible memories of her combat with Gurth, and she fought quickly to bury the thoughts. The black narwhal shaft had been shattered during the battle, and Lindsey had though the pieces had been lost. As Elred handed the weapon to her now she could see that the axe had been fitted with a new shaft of warm, dun colored wood, which fit smoothly and far more comfortably in her hand than had the spiral twist of the old one.

“I do believe this is yours, Linnian”, Elred said, “I took the liberty of collecting it after the storming of Ardgar. I gave it to a friend of mine to repair, and while he was at it I asked him to make a few slight alterations.”

As Lindsey looked more closely, she could see that something was indeed different. Near the rear of the axe head, safely removed from the functional portions of the edge, there was a small pearl weirdly embedded in the metal, as if it has been pressed into soft clay rather than steel. Carved into the wooden shaft was a phrase written in tiny characters of some forgotten script, which Lindsey could only just make out (even with the gift of tongues). As she spelled out the words in her head, the axe suddenly faded out of existence, contracting into a tiny, lavender tinged pearl in her hand, complete with a suitably placed hole bored through it.

“Well, that’ll be convenient.”

“I thought so as well”, Elred replied. The elf now pinned her with a keen gaze.

“You have proven yourself far beyond what was ever asked or expected of you. The Bird read your heart very well indeed. You have achieved great goodness, and there is much good which you could yet do. We never forget those who have helped us, and we shall not forget you. In point of fact, I would like to have your permission to call upon you again some time.”

Lindsey bit her lip. She was pretty sure she knew what Elred was asking. He mind shot back to Camilla Helwig, far away in her solitary house in the south. She too had served Elred’s kind. Lindsey already knew what it was like to work with these folks, and it wasn’t exactly pretty. But it was tempting. Terribly tempting.

“Sure. Why not? Look me up whenever you want, and I’ll decide for myself if I want to come along next time.”

“Capital! I wouldn’t wish for any more than that. Give me your right hand, Linnian.”

Lindsey hesitated for a moment. Then, she put out her hand, in probably the second most reckless act of her entire life.

The elf now laid his own hand over Lindsey’s. It felt soft, almost like a child’s. As Elred gripped Lindsey’s hand she felt a queer, electrifying tingle penetrating into her palm and spreading out into the tissue of her hand with growing intensity. It had almost become painful when abruptly Elred slacked his grip and released her hand.

Lindsey now looked at her palm. There, outlined with a faintly luminous sheen of deep violet, was the image of a great mountain with a crescent moon hovering just beside it. And to one side just beneath it was a small image which looked an awful lot like an outline of the medallion from Harin’s Vault which was now embedded in a reliquary in Larchester Cathedral. As she watched, the image quickly faded away, until there was nothing left except a small red welt where the image of the medallion had been.

Elred smiled.

“You are now a bearer of The Feymark. You can recall this image whenever you wish, and anyone you show it to will know you are a friend of the Good Folk. Needless to say, be very careful who you show it to. We shall speak again.”

With that, the elf arose and stepping behind the stalk of the mushroom he vanished.

The Bird now hopped over to a bare patch of loose dirt.

“Well, I think it’s high time I actually got you home.”

Diving lightly at the ground, the Bird drove his beak into the dirt and traced another outline into the ground, which fell away with a dull patter of pebbles. The Bird darted through, and once more Lindsey sat down on the ledge and swinging her legs over the edge she dropped through behind him to land on a carpeted floor with a disturbingly loud thud.

Lidnsey picked herself up and looked around.

Her dorm room was pretty much exactly as she had left it. The lights were turned off and the room was lit through the window with the pale light of a clear afternoon sky outside. The carpet showed no sign that anyone had ever been cutting holes in it to make magic gateways. However there was an annoying distribution of dirt and small pebbles scattered across it which had fallen through the gate which she and the Bird had just passed through.

Lindsey sighed.

“Well, I guess it’s now time to call the police and tell them I’ve found myself. Someone’s got to have filed a missing persons report for me by now.”

“Oh, that’s all been taken care of”, the Bird said cheerfully, “I’m afraid we didn’t have time to fabricate a proper doppelganger or anything fancy like that, but I think we came up the next best thing. So far as the world is concerned you have been sequestered all this time in your room with an acute case of infectious mononucleosis. It seemed the simplest solution at the time. We fabricated the necessary medical documents and distributed them to the appropriate individuals. There’s a stack of letters from your professors excusing your absence. We also took the liberty of commandeering your phone and social media accounts, and have employed them to maintain the illusion that you were safely convalescing here, in your dorm room. To top it off, we had a brownie or two move in and occupy your room to complete the illusion that someone was living there. It looks like they cleared up nicely before vacating this morning, which is a good sign. You can’t ever be sure with brownies, you know.”

The Bird now hesitated a moment.

“Well, I suppose it’s time for me to be going.”

With that, he hopped over to the window and pried it up with his beak. As he leapt up onto the sill, Lindsey spoke.

“Hey, wait a minute! Are you going to leave just like that? Aren’t you are least going to leave me your address or something? Come to think of it, though all this I never did find out what your name was. Do you even have a name?”

The Bird puffed his feathers a bit, seeming slightly flattered.

“Why, yes in point of fact I do. My name is Lahetti.”

And with that, he took off out of the window and disappeared into the sky.