“It’s her. It’s her.”

“The one from the promise.”

“The one from the bargain.”

“Oh, that queen was a fool.”

“But the prize is lovely.”

“Shame about the other one.”

“Yes, shame.”

“Shame about the other one. She paid a hefty price.”

“I do not feel sorry for her. She stole just as much.”

“Oh, that wasn’t with intent. She had no choice.”

“How dare you? The Living Goddess be avenged, she had more than a choice.”

“T’was sad. Is all.”

“Yes. That is all.”

“T’was sad. Simply sad.”

“Stolen children are never fine.”

Vadde shut her eyes, thankful that she could at least cover her ears. It didn’t hold all the voices back, but the whispering calmed.

Even the wind had a voice. “Lovely princess, do you have a bidding for us?”

“Yes. Tell us your bidding.”

Orm let out a gasp. It was genuine enough that Vadde picked her head up to see what had impressed him. Till now, he seemed unmoved by the beauty of the woods.

A massive waterfall spilled into a clearing. There was no end to it. There was also no start. Far above it, dark clouds masked where it came from. At its base, five black towers stood erect.

They weren’t the only one.

“The temple.” Orm urged the mule on, but it backed up instead of walking forward. “Come on.”

His next attempt was met with the same response.

The path ended directly here. Ahead was a field, not water, and yet the waterfall fell clearly.

Vadde understood the mule’s hesitation when she spotted a sign below the overgrowth.

Orm dismounted and sauntered to it. He blocked her view, but the words came from a different creature.

“Beware all who trespass in the temple of The Living Goddess. You may have one wish, but it requires payment. Life requires life. Riches require riches. Oaths require oaths.”

Vadde muttered to herself, “What does that mean?”

A lithe body darted past. Another followed.

More and more curious eyes peered out of the bushes. The girl had a deer’s nose, but looked otherwise human.

A boy’s head appeared beside hers. He had horns.

“Well look at this,” the boy told his companion. “What do you suppose they want? They bring no livestock to sacrifice so they do not want a child.”

The girl faun glanced at him then focused solely on Vadde. She communicated her worry without saying a word, but Vadde looked away.

She did not need their pity.

Pity was unnecessary for she’d do her duty as required.

Orm yanked the chain up from her feet and hooked it to his belt once more.

Vadde saw nothing of him for a moment. Two strong arms plucked her from the wagon and threw her up. She landed over Orm’s shoulder, and he patted her ass.

“Come. I’ve waited long enough.”

His hand rubbed her rear, so she struggled to get down. Forced to grip her with both hands, he grunted.

“If you want to spend the night with a black eye, be my guest,” he warned.

So she heeded his words. When he stepped from the path, a strange thing happened, the grass shined green. That wasn’t all that was bright. Night all but faded; the sky looked blue.

The open field stretched for ages, meeting the white waterfall and blending into the earth.

It was a short trek to the tower, Orm’s right hand gently patting her backside. Once or twice, it slipped up her dress, spreading her. But his fingers only grazed her once before he pulled his hand back, displeased.

“Wet or dry, I will have what I’ve come for.”

There was no sunlight of which to speak but upon reaching the tower finally, all light faded from around them. It was massive.

Surprisingly, there was no door, just an archway and a white staircase.

Orm looked around then stepped in.

Vadde’s body warmed. Her skin tingled; her hair even stood on ends.

They climbed up. That is to say, Orm climbed the stairs with no end in sight. Once he tired, he stopped, huffing and puffing then tried again. It felt like ages before he came to a halt once more.

“Captives cannot come here,” a voice warned.

Orm spun around, nearly missing a step. Unfortunately, the bastard self-corrected. He was cautious but careful when he put Vadde to stand.

“She’s not my captive,” he said, still searching the open area. “Show yourself.”

Purple and green bodies fluttered by them.

Vadde gasped. “Fairies.”

“No, princess,” the little green woman said, “we’re wood nymphs. You’re the only fairy here.”

Her words held no malice, and yet, they proved disheartening.

“She is sad,” the purple male said, zipping forward. “What good is a sad goddess?” he asked his companion. “The other one died of sadness.”

The Living Goddess.

“What happened to her?” Vadde asked, stepping forward.

“Oh, none of that. None of that.” The green girl nymph took Vadde by the hand. “Come. Come. We will make you comfortable first. And then you can have your wish. It’ll be all right then. Won’t it?”

It was true what she said about being different from the fairies. Fairy wings were white, a bit pink, and they fluttered fast. These nymphs were bigger than the Fae, and their wings resembled dragonflies.

They also had sharp teeth that gleamed when they spoke, or smiled, as the purple one did often when looking back at them.

Vadde glanced at Orm to find him loosening his collar. She stifled a grunt but allowed the green nymph to keep tugging at her finger. They were incredibly strong for creatures so tiny.

In all her knowledge of magical beings, which weren’t much, she tried to remember what she knew about nymphs, or wood nymphs. Could they actually fly?

After ten minutes, they reached the top of the tower and found a pool of water.

Vadde was impressed but Orm scanned the smooth rock of the floor before walking to the edge of the pool to peer within.

He came back to her side yet again and told the nymphs, “I have business with this woman. I was told I could conduct it here.”

The purple nymph smiled knowingly. “Is it pertaining to physical love?”

Love? Vadde scoffed but said nothing.

“You can do all manner of things here,” the nymph said, “for a price.”

Orm looked between the creatures and reached within his pockets. “I have some coin.”

“Coin?” the girl nymph asked. “We have no use for riches.”

“Besides, riches flow like water here.” The purple nymph nodded toward the pool.

Though they piqued the prince’s interest, he turned back to the task at hand. “Then what do you want?”

The nymphs traded a glance and smiled at one another.

“Let us eat first,” the girl nymph said, “and then we will talk.”

***

Wyrn stomped into the woods behind his mother. Upon entering sometime prior, he’d felt confident, saved. Now, with their precious little time wasted spinning around in all directions, panic started to creep in.

“Mother, let us go the way we know,” Wyrn insisted.

She whipped her head around and shot him a sharp look.

With that, Wyrn calmed.

“It’s here,” she said, running her hand along the shrub. “A shortcut.”

Father and Wyrn shared a glance. Bonn was the only one quiet, careful in his steps.

Once or twice he even held Shaza’s hand, a rare thing.

Wyrn felt good about them but lost interest when Shaza pulled Bonn to a stop; she was back to her old tricks of seeking his undivided attention at all times.

No matter what she whispered, Wyrn wasn’t listening. Instead, he watched his mother’s failed efforts with a heavy heart. He could almost hear the fabled waterfall. Surely, they were close. Surely, he could simply abandon this shortcut and find his way there directly. It was his first time here, but this was an enchanted forest; someone must have seen two humans venture in. It was such a rare occurrence.

“Brother.” Bonn held Wyrn’s shoulder. He hadn’t made a sound in his approach. Despite his usual soft voice, he spoke up and said, “Let us abandon this method and go back to the path and try to run.”

Mother stood to her full height, staring at them in shock. Her blue-gray eyes darted to Shaza who watched the ground and refused to acknowledge anyone.

“You—”

But before she could advance, Bonn blocked her path. “Her what?” he demanded.

It was no secret that Bonn and Mother’s relationship had been strained for several years now. The loss of Bonn’s family had struck them all terribly. Wyrn was young then, just seventeen, and hadn’t fully understood it. Only one thing, Bonn found the offering wanting and had begged to go back and fetch more. When he returned, instead of new life greeting him, there was quiet and carnage. He had to grow in order to carry his son from the woods.

For weeks, he cried. Therefore, Father left him in his true form. Giants did not die easily, only sleep when weak. Made mortal again, he might have starved.

Wyrn had been certain Bonn blamed no one but himself. Today, however, felt different.

The way Bonn reached back for Shaza and stood between her and Mother was nothing like him.

“She what?” he demanded again.

Mother glanced past him to Shaza then said, “She undermines me. I know a shortcut.”

“But I don’t know if you do, Mother,” Bonn attested. “This feels eerily familiar. We’ll spin around in here, losing precious time. And go home with dead bodies.”

Mother’s mouth snapped shut.

It was Father who turned to Bonn, appalled. “Apologize.”

Bonn lowered his gaze. He all but wrapped Shaza’s hands around his waist as he muttered a weak, “I’m sorry.”

After that, everything fell silent. Even the noisy wind and the myriad of murmurs mimicking animal callings faded.

Mother found herself in a strange situation. Wyrn hated seeing it.

But instead of shying away, she marched directly to a tree then took a right before meeting it. She vanished.

When she appeared again, she looked back to them and asked, “Are you all coming?”

Wyrn waited for his brothers to rush past him and follow.

In the end, only four of them remained. Wyrn, Father, Bonn, and Shaza.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Bonn grumbled.

Father had no readied response for once. “You weren’t the only one thinking it. This…this was where I’d found her twenty years ago. I think visiting this place is hard for her.” He entreated Bonn, “Please be gentle with her and mind your words.”

As they came to an agreement, Wyrn walked between them, more than eager to put this shortcut to good use.

“Come,” Wyrn said. “We must hurry before they do something careless and are eaten by those nymphs.”

Bonn hurried to catch up to him. “They wouldn’t be foolish enough to eat from them, would they?”

Oh, but they most certainly would.