“This place has been my home for a hundred years.” Gwyllain bit into some of the soaked rations that Alex had handed him; if the bog-water ruined the taste, he didn’t say. If anything, he looked positively thrilled.

He sat on the edge of the hag’s table—his legs kicking idly like a child’s—while Isolde, Khalik and Thundar examined the table’s contents. A few items had made Isolde grimace while Khalik and Thundar shook their heads at some of the more gruesome ones. Grimloch, Theresa—who’d taken Brutus— Svenia, Hogarth and Meikara had volunteered to head back outside, do another sweep of the bog in the immediate vicinity, then send a messenger construct to the encampment to report what had happened. They’d talked about maybe using a blue flare, but came to the conclusion that calling in the other teams wasn’t really necessary.

That left Claygon to guard the group in the hag’s chamber, as Alex had a little chat with Gwyllain.

“I was born here,” the asrai said, his high-pitched voice taking on a more musical quality the more comfortable he grew around Alex’s team. “On the other side of this very bog.”

“The other side?” Alex asked. “You mean on the other end of the bog? Or do you mean…the land of the faeries?”

“Ah, you know about us!” Gwyllain said. “Aye just a few hops and one faerie circle away from here. I spend most of my time on this side, though. Especially now.”

“Really?” Alex said, frowning in surprise. “I’d think when The Ravener’s here, the fae would be in hiding.”

“And miss the Time of Plenty?” the asrai gaped at him in shock.

Thundar, Isolde and Khalik looked over sharply.

“You must be out of your mind!” the faerie scoffed, biting down on more of the rations. “Missing the Time of Plenty, indeed!”

“The Time of Plenty?” Alex asked, cocking his head and paying close attention. “I’m pretty sure the hag called it The Lean Times.”

“Aye, because she—and much of her sort—have a different view on all this business.” Gwyllain swallowed. “Look, no offence to you and yours but you leaving every hundred years is good for us. You’re all big, you tend to be loud, you have all that nasty iron you carry about, and you hunt everything that moves. Not to mention crashing around in the wilds, eating all the good berries and mushrooms.”

He clapped his hands a couple of times. “When you head off across the sea, things grow back, deer become more plentiful, and fish fill the waters again. There’s plenty of spaces for faeries to go to, plenty of places to frolic, harvest and just have a time of it. Some say the land becomes like it was before Uldar and you lot came here: it's said that back then fish filled the rivers, bogs and lakes so much that you could dance a jig across ‘em. Though, there’s no one left alive from that time to say for sure.”

Alex frowned. “Yeah, but a lot of people die when The Ravener comes. It’s not a time of plenty for us.”

“Aye, true, true. It’s sad that you die when the dark one comes, but you get over it, and you die so quickly anyway, but there’s always more of you. In the end, is it so wrong for a wolf to rejoice when the bear has a bad time of it? It just means more deer for the wolf. And we of faerie kind have our own troubles in our own courts, and I don’t see all of your hearts breaking for us.”

Alex took a deep breath, reminding himself that he wasn’t talking to a human. He wasn’t even talking to someone who was completely mortal; it would make sense for the asrai’s perspective to be…different from his. It was like when they’d first emerged from The Traveller’s portal into the Rhinean Empire and learned that Thameland’s troubles didn’t really carry into much of the rest of the world.

Still, this talk of The Ravener’s coming being ‘a time of plenty’ did give him pause.

“Do The Ravener’s spawn not hunt you fae?” Alex asked. “Don’t they kill everything living?”

“Aye, they hunt us and beasts, though with less…” Gwyllain paused, considering things. “Vigour, shall we say, than the way they hunt your kind. Besides, we have ways of slipping away and places to go to avoid trouble. Now and then, one of them finds their way into the land of the faeries, but they don’t do well there. No, no they don't do well at all.”

“What happens to them?” Alex asked.

“Our land is under our control,” the asrai said with a wicked grin. “Save for a few clever humans—who manage to escape our notice or come in with at least one of our blessings—if we don’t want someone there, then they won’t do well there. Not at all.”

“Right,” the young wizard said.

‘That makes sense,’ he thought. ‘Faeries can just come and go from the land of the faeries as they please, and they have powerful magics to defend against intruders. No wonder The Ravener doesn’t seem like such a big deal to them.’

“But,” the faerie said. “The Ravener makes certain other monsters get all…nasty. With you all gone, it means that a lot of their food disappears. Powries go stark, raving mad during this time: no mortals to hit with their rocks and scythes, none to stomp on with their iron-shod boots, and not much human blood to spill to dip their caps in.”

“Right, you’re talking about redcaps,” Alex said, remembering Baelin warning that their kind had been seen in the region.”

“You call ‘em that, aye,” Gwyllain picked up a small bone off the hag’s table and began to pick his teeth. “And they used to be plentiful around here but they went off looking for other sport. They’ll fight Ravener-spawn in a pinch, but they really would rather kill your kind. They also don’t like Uldar or his symbols, and an awful lot of the humans left in the land are priests of your god. So they have to go far to get their jollies, you see.”

“Right, we’ll watch for them,” Alex said. “And so you don’t know anything about The Ravener and where it came from?”

“Only that there was a time before it was here, then a time after, and then a time after your god defeated it, and the Times of Plenty started. Ah well, not much to be said about things that ancient. And…you asked about something called The Traveller?”

“Yeah, she was a saint. The Patron Saint of my hometown,” Alex said, then described as much as he could about what he knew about her.

“Mmmm can’t say I’m too familiar with human Heroes,” Gwyllain said. “The new…Chosen’s been talking to some of the higher faeries in the court, but I don’t know much about past ones. Sometimes some of those Heroes aligned themselves with fae. Might be that’s what’s happening again.”

“Really?” Alex tapped his chin. “Do you know what Cedr-I mean, the current Chosen is talking about with them?”

“Ah, I’m just a bog-dwelling asrai, Alex. I’m not party to the private discussions of my lords and ladies. So…that’s all I know. Oh, there’s some phantom wild cats out there to the south in the moors, so watch yourself.”

“Right,” Alex said. “There’s another team going down there. I’ll pass on the warning…but I don’t think they’ll need it.”

The team sent to explore the south was the one Tyris was on, and right before they’d left, Baelin had teleported Vesuvius to the region. Alex actually felt sorry for anything that got in their way.

“Well, you know your folk better than I…but speaking of your folk. You said more of you mortals would be coming to this place?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, and explained a bit more about the expedition and what they were planning. “We’re not here to take over, we’re here to be good neighbours, really.”

“Right…” Gwyllain tapped his fingers on his knees. “Then you’ll be building a castle?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Thundar cut in. “A great, big one that can stand against Ravener monsters and the like.”

“Right, right…tell me, do you know of bluecaps?” Gwyllain asked.

“I think so…they’re fairy spirits of the earth and they tend to hang around in caves and mines. They draw power from the stone, right?”

“Aye, there you have it,” the asrai said. “I’ll tell you what, can I ask you for one more favour?”

“Depends on what that favour is.”

“Smart reply: it’s only this. I ask you to stay with me until night falls: I can’t go out when the sun’s in the sky, but if I stay here alone, I’m afraid the hag will return. In return…it stands a bit unfair to me that all you’ll be getting from the life-debt is me giving you a bit of information, so I’ll do a bit more for you. If you’re building a castle, you’re going to need good stone and other things of that nature.”

He counted one finger. “I’ll talk to some bluecaps for you and ask them to lead you to some good spots to dig where you won’t be bothering other fae and might find a bit more than rock. But, you have to treat them with courtesy and respect or they’ll make your life rough and you won’t find anything except crumbling pebbles.”

He counted on a second webbed finger. “I’ll also see if I can find an aeld tree, a nice young one you might be able to convince to let you transplant it where your castle is. You know an aeld tree?”

“Yeah.” Alex smiled. This had gone better than he’d expected. “Every part of aeld trees can be used for food and medicine, and they bring luck wherever they grow.”

“That’s right. So, how does that sound?”

“It’s a deal,” Alex said enthusiastically. “I’ll make sure our miners know to treat the bluecaps respectfully and that we treat any aeld tree you bring me to with respect. That said, I hold no responsibility for the actions of the folk I tell. I promise only to tell them to respect the bluecaps…I can’t promise what they’ll do or won’t do.”

“Fair, then the pact is sealed.”

Alex felt a shift in the air as the fae magic rose up, sealing the bargain between them and then they shook hands.

‘Well, just two days in and we already drove off a monster, secured a deal with one of the locals, and might even get more benefits later. This is a great way to begin.’

They stayed with Gwyllain until night fell—having let the encampment know of their intentions—then saw the asrai off. The team stood in front of the cave while he excitedly scampered off into the moonlight.

“I’ll make good on our pact!” He waved, stepping into the water. “I swear it by my scales and the fae courts! I’ll make good and I’ll see you again!”

Without another word, Gwyllain disappeared into the water and was gone.

“Well,” Khalik said, yawning. “This was an interesting turn of events. Why don’t we talk about it back at camp, I am starving for something better than boggy rations.”

On their first night in Thameland, the expedition members hadn’t had much time to pay too much attention to their new surroundings. There’d been so much to do. Alex had been so tired, that he was asleep as soon as he hit the cot.

Tonight though, folk were more awake and even a little nervous.

Guards patrolled outside the camp and wards had been set up around the perimeter. The surveyors had presented their initial reports and then had the rest of the night off.

Alex sat cross-legged by a blazing campfire, chewing on some of his rations and reflecting on what had happened during the day. Jules and the other professors were pleased with his negotiations with Gwyllain: having secured a pact, it was pretty much guaranteed that the asrai would make good on his promises.

That meant a supply of quality stone would be easier to find than they’d expected.

It also meant that there might be opportunity for more negotiations with the faeries of the region if the wizards forged a reputation for working well with their neighbours. His companions also sat in a circle around the campfire, chatting amongst themselves.

“It’s funny,” Theresa said, leaning against him by the fire. “To think that The Ravener is looked on by some folk as something good.”

“Yeah,” Alex said. “That caught me off guard too. That and the fact that Gwyllain didn’t know of anyone alive from Uldar’s time. Makes you wonder just how many cycles there actually have been.”

“I was wondering about that too,” she said. “Do you think any of them will know anything about The Traveller?”

“Well, hopefully we’ll find out. …makes me wonder, though—considering what Gwyllain said—what Cedric’s up to. You know, I wouldn’t mind talking to him again.”

She looked at him sharply. “Are…are you sure about that?”

He turned and whispered. “As long as we don’t meet The Saint, I should be fine. And…listen, there’s nothing in our history books about how the fae view the Ravener’s cycle or how other monsters view it either. Nothing at all: it only gives the perspective of the followers of Uldar. But Gwyllain said some of The Heroes have talked to them in the past. Yet that didn’t come up in any of the books and stories we ever heard about. I’m sure somebody knows about that stuff.”

Sighing, he looked up at the stars, finding the constellations of The Great Mountain and The Hand. “There’s too many secrets, or at least too many people not coming together to compare notes. If we’re going to find a way to kill this thing forever, then people need to share what they know.”

He tapped his knee, much like Gwyllain had. “So, if we can help The Heroes and they can help us, we’d be able to work together to figure stuff out, we really should be doing that. …it just makes me wonder how much more we’re gonna find by just digging around.”

“And I also wonder if anyone’s not going to like us digging around,” he added.