“We have to go to the Worthington house first,” Pinta said, marching through the tall grass with his head down and his eyes up.

“We need to go to city hall and look for the records,” Adelia said.

“I’m not missing my chance to fortify our Sanctum, not when we have the seer here.” Pinta glared back over his shoulder at Jeremy.

Adelia glanced between the two and finally said, “Fine, but we must be quick.”

“The Sanctum, you mean fortify the cabin?” Jeremy asked.

“Yes,” Sinta said in her quiet, thoughtful tone. “Sanctum or Sanctuary, different words for the same thing. They both mean a holy place for us.” Jeremy noticed that the little creature was clearly uncomfortable in the tall grass. Her small eyes darted back and forth, looking for threats. “More accurately, Sanctum, Sanctuary and Sanctus, come from the Latin word Sancire. It means a safe place, consecrated ground. You will hear the very old Moirai use Sanctus and Sancire sometimes, but most of us just call them Sanctuary or Sanctum.”

The group fell silent for a few moments as they walked. Each step brought a swooshing sound as blades of grass brushed against his jeans. Looking over at Sinta, he imagined her as a tiny pumpkin-colored professor. He had never been to school, but had visited libraries in the towns he drifted into. They were safe, quiet places for him to hide in a corner with a stack of books, learning about the outside world.

“Are all abandoned places Sanctuaries?” Jeremy asked.

“Many of them,” Sinta said, walking beside Jeremy now. She glanced over at Adelia before continuing. “When we are born into them, they certainly become Sanctuaries. When we visit a new place, we can always tell when it is Sanctuary for us. It’s a feeling. Humans usually can’t sense it, unless they are seers like you. Humans can’t see us either, unless we want them to, but it takes some effort to make that happen, so we usually don’t unless we’re trying to run them off.”

“And you can’t leave your Sanctuaries?”

“We can use doorways to other sanctuaries, but we have to knock and other Moirai have to answer. We can travel great distances through doorways. But if we stray too far from a Sanctuary, out into the world, without being infused like Adelia is to her gold, we will die.” Sinta smiled as she spoke, clearly enjoying the chance to share knowledge with someone outside her Sanctuary.

“But why—”

“Shut it,” Pinta growled, raising his small red arm as they approached the road. “We’re close to town, and I can’t tell who’s about.” Sinta scowled at him but said no more.

“Nod,” Adelia said, “Stay close to Sinta while we search.” There was a gentle gravity to her voice that spoke of incidents in the past, and the little gray creature shuffled closer to Sinta.

“Adelia’s right, we have to get in and out, don’t let Nod wander off.” Pinta walked out of the grass and onto an ancient road, a mix of gravel and dirt rutted by years of use but partially overgrown now. Pinta led them to a four-way stop, and Jeremy could make out houses down the road. He had never seen an abandoned neighborhood. The sight sent a shudder down his spine. It felt wrong, somehow.

“You get accustomed to it,” Adelia said.

“I avoid towns as much as possible,” Jeremy said. “I don’t like crowds. But seeing something like this seems wrong.”

“You’ll learn to look past the human side, Jeremy, and see the life that remains. Every abandoned place tells part of the story, the buildings and objects left behind. But the Moira complete it for seers, like you.” She looked at him, standing beside her. “You will notice the inhabitants that remain soon enough, or at least the traces of them. You’ll feel what they were born from. Sadness. Rage. Fear.” She scanned the dilapidated houses with an intense gaze, searching. “Crag’s minions have chased away or killed many of our Ardmore cousins, but a few remain hidden.”

“Why is Crag doing this?” Jeremy asked. Pinta stomped off once they reached the neighborhood, guiding them down a side road.

“Humans reclaimed his Sanctuary, or so we’re told,” Adelia said.

“What do you mean?”

“When humans come back to a Sanctum, after the Moirai have been born to it or claimed it, they can rarely coexist. Sometimes people demolish the Sanctuary and build something new, or sometimes they repair the existing Sanctuary and inhabit it. Think about an old farmhouse or cabin that humans come back to. They would run us out without knowing it. Our artifacts would disappear along with the power we need. And even if we could stay, the energy would change. We may perish as we cling to our own Sanctuary. That’s why we’re lucky Kenneth’s Cabin is so far away from civilization. And…” She looked at him sideways. “… we drive away any human who comes close.”

“But why is Crag taking over other Sanctuaries? Is that normal?”

“No,” Sinta said, resting her hand on Nod’s shoulder as they walked. “Sure, there are conflicts between Folk sometimes, but nothing like this that I’ve ever seen.” Adelia looked away, studying the ruined houses as they walked for a moment, as if trying to conjure a memory just out of reach.

“We’re here,” Pinta said. He stood in front of a modest house that had once been white but was now a faded moss-covered brown. Forgotten flower beds stood in the yard, wild and riddled with weeds. The front door, with an ornately arched window at the top, was a faded green. It stood slightly ajar.

“Sinta, you keep watch out here with Nod. Pinta, Jeremy and I will go in and find what we need,” Adelia said. Sinta nodded and turned her attention to the street. She closed her eyes and tilted her slender chin slightly up.

“Sinta is the best of us at complexity,” Adelia said. “She can sense intricate weavings of power and far away disturbances and Pinta is our defender and emotional guide.” She walked along the cracked, overgrown sidewalk leading up to the front door and Jeremy followed.

“Really, Pinta is your emotional guide?” Jeremy said.

“Watch yourself, human,” Pinta said. He was moving his hands back and forth over the door, palms outward.

“He’s the best at sensing the fusion of human emotions with objects. Our artifacts of power,” she said.

“It’s safe, but there may be some Folk inside. I’ve knocked just in case,” Pinta said. He pushed the door all the way open, and Jeremy wondered exactly how he had knocked. He hadn’t even touched the front door.

“If Pinta is good with whatever the artifact thing is and Sinta is good at tricky magic, what are you and Nod good at?” Jeremy asked as they crossed the threshold into the dark house.

“She’s the hammer boy, even bound as she is and missing a few gold pieces. Adelia has more punch than all of us combined,” Pinta said. He was making his way slowly through the dark living room with his hands out in front of him, as if feeling for cobwebs. He faded into shadow for a moment before Jeremy heard a satisfied grunt and a small light filled the room. Pinta turned, holding a chipped ceramic coffee mug with a broken handle. Soft yellow light radiated from it.

“It ain’t much, but it’s just right for this,” Pinta said.

“That’s an artifact?” Jeremy asked.

Pinta grunted and nodded toward him as he spun around the room, holding the mug high over his head, which brought it to about the height of Jeremy’s chin. “This is a minor thing,” he said, scanning the floor as he spoke. “A mug picked up on vacation or given as a gift. But kids…” He shook his head, whistling quietly, his red ears swinging from side to side. “Kids are the best because they don’t have any filters. A child’s toy filled with love will lay a glamor on a Sanctuary for a year.” He walked in circles, holding his cup-light over everything, inspecting and nudging objects with his toe. Odds and ends lay strewn about the floor, silverware, plates, a cracked CD case, a few VHS tapes. An old brown recliner rested in the corner, ripped along the center cushion. A collapsed entertainment center leaned against the wall.

“Pinta get’s his anger from someone who died in the cabin,” Jeremy said, watching him move about the room. The knowledge rose up from somewhere deep inside of him, somewhere he couldn’t understand.

“He was born from Kenneth, the builder of our cabin. Where Pinta is Kenneth’s rage, Nod is his guilt, his sadness,” Adelia said. “Nod doesn’t speak much, but he’s the heart of the family.” Pinta snorted and moved into the next room. Jeremy stepped quickly behind him. He was not scared, he told himself. He just didn’t want to be in the dark, in an abandoned house that might be full of magical creatures.

“When did Kenneth build the cabin?” Jeremy asked. They came out into a small kitchen. Sunlight streamed into the room from a window, so Pinta let the cup-light fade away. The cabinets were probably from the 1950s. A cracked wooden table in the corner was probably the same vintage. The dusty green stove and refrigerator were probably from the 1980s. Jeremy wondered what was in it. When the former occupants left, had they bothered to clear out the food or would it be an alien landscape of black and green mold?

“He built the cabin after the war but died not long after,” she said.

“Which war?”

“The first war to consume most of the world,” she said.

Jeremy assumed she meant World War I.

“So you’re all a hundred years old? Was he a seer?”

She shook her head and inspected the kitchen cabinets. It was clear to Jeremy that she didn’t want to discuss the matter, and he decided not to pry. He understood the need for privacy. But he still needed to understand what was happening. Why was Adelia different? She was human, while the others were something else entirely. Why was she linked to the gold? Where was she from? The others were clearly from Kenneth’s Cabin.

“There’s nothing here, except maybe that chair in the front room,” Pinta growled. “It’s got a little left, but not enough to make me want to lug it home. Let’s hope the bedrooms are better.” Pinta marched out of the room and Adelia followed. Jeremy took one more look around the kitchen, imagining a family sitting down to dinner. His father sitting at the table, watching his mother as she cooked. He shook the memory from his head and spun out of the room. When he caught up to Pinta and Adelia, they were standing perfectly still, staring through a doorway. Jeremy couldn’t see what they were staring at. The only things he saw were an old, moth-eaten bed mattress, a brass headboard, and an antique chest.

“What are you—”

“Ssh.” Adelia held a slender finger to her lips. “Look, Jeremy… see.”

“See what?”

“Calm your mind and look at the bed,” she said, moving her finger away from her lips to touch his temple. He flinched but didn’t pull away. How long had it been since another person had touched him? Does Adelia count as a person? Her touch was like a wisp of air held in place on his skin. He blinked, looking toward the bed, and saw three brown creatures staring back at them. Each one resembled Nod, smaller than Pinta and Sinta, but shaped the same with wrinkled skin, large ears, and bulbous noses. Their expressions were grim, and they held what looked like kitchen utensils. One had a stained wooden stirring spoon, another a butcher’s knife, and the third held a set of barbecue tongs.

“You can see them even though they haven’t revealed themselves to you,” she whispered. Her voice was soft, like a breeze to match her soft touch. Turning to the creatures, she said in a normal voice, “Greetings, cousins, we see you.” She pulled her finger away from his temple and he missed the warm sensation instantly, but tried to stay focused. Pinta was tense, holding up the coffee mug in front of him.

“We see you… cousins,” said the Moirai, holding the barbeque tongs out in front of him, a mirror of Pinta and his cup. “You have entered our Sanctuary.”

Jeremy wondered if that was bad.

“We did not know this was an occupied Sanctuary. We seek artifacts to help us defend our own from Crag,” Adelia said.

“This ain’t nobody’s Sanctuary cousin,” Pinta barked.

“You’re wrong. This is our place. You leave!” The leader waved his tongs threateningly.

Adelia glared at Pinta for a split second before turning back to the bed. “You know me, yes? I am Adelia. One of you. From Kenneth’s Cabin, the Sanctuary of Pinta and Sinta. We must convene with those who remain in Sanctuary Ardmore to stand against Crag.”

“Why convene with us? You ain’t from Ardmore Sanctuary.” He gestured with his tongs as he spoke.

“Because Ardmore is tied to our Sancire and we will not bend to Crag and his minions,” Adelia said. Jeremy noticed she said Sancire instead of Sanctuary and that her posture straitened considerably. Who was she really, behind the young woman’s mask? The Moirai on the bed considered her for a moment.

“We ain’t giving him nothing and neither should you,” Pinta growled, breaking the tense silence. “Adelia is going to find her missing pieces and with her full strength, smash Crag. Crag ain’t nothing to Adelia with all her might.” The folk appraised Adelia before scrutinizing him with their beady eyes. Jeremy shifted his weight but kept eye contact. He was three times bigger than these creatures. Even if the tongs were magic, he should be able to easily toss these creatures out the window.

“You can’t have our charms,” the leader finally said, but he lowered his tongs and the others followed suit.

“Come to our Sanctuary. You aren’t bound to this house,” Adelia said.

“What, now wait—,” Pinta said before Adelia cut him off.

“It is the best way, Pinta, and you know it. We must come together, we must convene.”

Pinta offered a growl deep in his throat, but said no more. The three Moirai on the bed jumped down and walked directly in front of Adelia.

“We’ll convene,” the leader said. He tucked his tongs in his crude burlap leggings. Were they made from a feed sack? All three creatures were scrawny, with brown skin and jutting bones, and no shirts or shoes. Not that any of the others wore shoes, except Adelia, who wore leather sandals.

“We’re born of good, like you cousin, not rage and sorrow like him.” The leader nodded his head toward Pinta. “We know you all good Folk, though, even him.” Again, he nodded toward Pinta. “We accept.”

“Fine. We’ll seal a covenant of understanding when we get back to our Sanctuary,” Pinta said. He stalked past them and examined the brass headboard and chest. “This is strong fusion. It’ll work. Now we replace my chair.” He glared at Jeremy.

“Yes, Pinta, we’ll get your new chair,” Adelia said with a sigh. “This is a good find. We have hope, thanks to our cousins.”

Pinta made a growling noise in his throat again. “All they did was get out of our way.”

Twenty minutes later, Jeremy found himself listening to the crunch of gravel as he dragged the large oak chest down the street. He wondered how they would get it across the pavement and through the fields to the cabin. The other Moirai held different ends of the headboard behind him, and Adelia carried a faded cloth shopping bag full of long-ago discarded items. When was Ardmore abandoned? And why? He assumed they would find Pinta’s precious chair in another ramshackle house along their route. The clang of metal on gravel jolted Jeremy out of his thoughts, and he spun to see that Sinta had dropped the corner of the headboard and was staring at a dark house to the left.

“They are coming,” she said.

“Is Crag with them?” Pinta asked, letting go of the headboard and motioning to their new companions to do the same. It clattered flat onto the road and lay still. Pinta and Sinta stepped into the center, between bars, as if they had rehearsed the move. Sinta started making intricate motions in the air toward the offending house. Pinta knelt, putting his hands on the brass tubing, and closed his eyes. Adelia moved in front of the chest, while Nod and the three newcomers huddled behind it.

“No time to run?” Adelia asked.

“No, they’re here, watching,” Sinta said. Her hand motions had slowed to graceful repetitive movements that Jeremy thought looked like figure eights. “They’re close, would cut us down if we ran. We must stand.”

“Let them come,” Pinta said. He looked almost eager as he gripped the brass between his small fingers. Was he vibrating? Jeremy took a step closer to Adelia, heart pounding. What could he do in a magical fight? What would it even look like? Was Crag human sized like Adelia or a small creature like all the other Moirai? Surely, they could hold off a band of little Folk. Couldn’t he just kick them out of the way?

“They may not attack with you here, Jeremy. Seers have power and Folk don’t like being seen by humans,” Adelia said.

“What kind of power do I have?” he asked, staring at the house in front of them. The only power he had was running away. Away from his father’s strap and religion and away from other people on the road who would rob him. Shadows crept out of the house, like living things, spreading across the road, covering them in darkness. He looked around with wide eyes, but everyone else kept their gazes fixed on the darkening house.

“You will not pass,” a deep voice echoed around them.

“You have no power over us,” Adelia said, lifting her chin slightly.

“Crag is the ruler of Sanctuary Ardmore. We are his enforcement. You will not pass,” the voice said.

“You are murderers and thieves. You have no authority,” Adelia said.

“Surrender the artifacts.” The voice grew nearer, or the illusion of the voice had grown more intimate in Jeremy’s mind. He couldn’t tell which.

Jeremy felt Adelia tense beside him, but when he turned to look, her face was unreadable. The hairs on his arms stood up and the bag of gold grew warm in his pocket. Nausea rolled through him as Sinta moved her hands faster and faster.

“I see your weaves and deny your edict.” Adelia tilted her head. “Break them, Sinta,” she commanded in a tone that chilled his blood. Sinta’s hands stopped suddenly, frozen in place, with fingers extended at odd angles. Jeremy fought the urge to run away. There was absolute silence for a split second before a terrible shriek poured out of the house. As the scream built to a crescendo, tiny spiderwebs seemed to fly out of the windows, doors, and even the small chimney. Adelia lifted her hands as if gesturing for someone to come near and two slight but impossibly tall black figures flew out of the house, ripped backward through the air. They shrieked as they clawed at the porch, dirt, and grass, dragged by Adelia’s invisible force. Just before reaching her, one of them spun as far as it could manage and pointed a blue clawed finger at Sinta, who seemed to be guiding the shadowy webs away from them. The other creature reached over and grasped his companion’s arm. A yellow light filled their black bodies and then erupted out of them, spiraling toward Sinta.

Before it reached her, Pinta was on his feet, lifting the brass headboard. Sinta stood frozen between the tubes as Pinta lifted it over her head, slamming it down, feet first in front of the blast. A golden glow exploded all around them, blinding Jeremy for a moment. As he blinked the bright dancing spots away, he saw Adelia take a step toward the two figures, now laying prone on the ground in front of her. She was calm and collected, and her voice had taken on a strange accent. As she spoke, visions of ancient castles and bloody battles filled his mind.

“Your edicts do not weigh well with us, in our own home. You are alive because I have deigned it be so. But you will never taste power again.” She made a sweeping motion with her hand, and the headboard lifted off the ground and dropped sideways onto the prone creatures. She slammed her sandal-clad foot onto one of the brass tubes and glared down at their defiant faces. An unseen force sucked away the surrounding air and the dark figures stretched their mouths impossibly wide. A silent cry. He wondered if the other Moirai could hear them. Their dark eyes bulged, all signs of defiance gone, replaced by something else. Was it agony? Terror? “Tell Crag that his life will be mine if he attacks Kenneth’s Cabin.”

The next moment, they lay with their eyes closed; she pulled her foot away. Jeremy’s pocket was on fire. He looked down to see if the bag had actually burned through his jeans, but to his relief, it hadn’t. Pinta picked up the headboard carefully and dragged it off them.

“Move quickly. They’re companions are close,” Adelia said. The group moved down the gravel road and turned a corner. Jeremy could make out buildings just up the road. It must be a small downtown area, he thought. Adelia let out a small breath and fell to her knees, clutching the tall grass on the side of the road. He thought she looked more transparent. He kneeled beside her. The bag in his pocket was cold now.

“I just need to rest,” she said.

Pinta dropped to the grass beside her. His gray skin was pale, and his eyes were bloodshot. “That was a lot of mojo,” he said.

“We can’t take another attack like that, not right now,” Sinta said, joining them on the grass. She laid back and closed her large, glassy eyes. The three newcomers stood off to the side, staring down at the headboard and back at Adelia.

“You fused this, lady, you fused it with their magic,” the leader with the barbecue tongs said. “How d’you do that?”

Another one added, “I ain’t never seen that, ain’t never heard of it.”

Adelia smiled slightly. “You just haven’t been around long enough. Don’t touch it, it’s a lot of dangerous energy. From Crag’s followers, from the same nightmare that made their Sanctuary. I can’t tell where they came from exactly, but I know it’s dark.”

“We’ll still use it to fight em off, but it’ll have to be a last resort,” Pinta said.

“That was fine crafting Adelia,” Sinta said.

“Even if it did ruin our strongest artifact,” Pinta said, but his tone was soft and Adelia simply nodded.

“I haven’t crafted like that since Logan was alive and the bag was full,” she said, closing her eyes. She sat back and tilted her head to the sun.

“We should keep moving,” Sinta said. “I’m not sure how many more Crag left in town when he left. Those two were strong.” Her ears drooped, and she stifled a yawn.

“You, Pinta, and the others make your way back to the cabin, and the seer and I will go to the courthouse. I need to go through the town records if they are still here,” Adelia said.

“We’ll take the artifact, but if you ain’t back by sunset, we’re coming for you,” Pinta said, scowling toward Jeremy for some reason.

Adelia looked like she was going to argue, but she finally nodded.

“Keep your eye out, seer,” Sinta said.

“What can I do?” Jeremy asked. After seeing what a magical fight looked like, he realized he wouldn’t be booting any of these magical creatures out of the way, no matter how small they were.

“Remember when you saw these three in the house?” she said, gesturing toward the three brown Moirai. Jeremy looked at the little creatures, still marveling over the headboard, and nodded. “You can see us even when we don’t want you to. There is power in that. You can also tell when we’re weaving a deception or making a bad deal. Remember, we rarely lie outright since it drains a bit of our power each time, but some of us are masters at misdirection.”

“I only saw them because Adelia made me,” Jeremy said.

“It will come to you,” Adelia said. “Let’s move.” She pushed herself up.

“But I can see through you again,” Jeremy said.

“I’ll be fine, there’s no time to rest.”

Pinta stood, stretching his arms and legs out as if making sure they still worked. He hobbled over to the headboard. “You shouldn’t handle that,” he said to the three brown Moirai. “Might pull you in. I’ll take it. You weave a little lift for that chest and get it moving down the road. You should be fresh enough since you didn’t do any of the fighting.” They looked at him nervously, but moved over to the chest while Pinta and Sinta took up the brass headboard. Jeremy noticed Sinta’s cringe when she touched it.

“They will be fine,” Adelia said, in her gentle sing-song voice, a stark contrast to her commanding tone, strange accent, and brute strength during the battle. As he followed her away from the group, watching her glide down the road, he wondered which one was the act.