“The fire will attract attention, might break our glamer,” Pinta said.

“We have to risk it. We don’t have enough power to fend Crag’s Folk off, and they already sense us here.”

“But not our exactly where the cabin is.”

“It’s just a matter of time before they pin us down,” Sinta said. “But we’re almost ready to knock.”

Sinta took a pot of water from the tiny purple creature who presented it. He had black and white feathers sprouting from his head and large, yellow eyes. Nodding to Sinta, he turned away and walked back to the kitchen. Folk were bustling about, gathering every artifact in the cabin, arranging objects in the middle of the main room according to power. Sinta was in charge of the intricate magic. Sinta placed the pot on the top of the stove, wishing Adelia was here. She may not be great at delicate weaving, but she could pull more power from artifacts than anyone, and she knew how to use it. Sinta knew they could knock on the next Sanctuary through the stove, Kenneth had died in front of it, embedding tremendous power, but she had never knocked before. What if Adelia didn’t make it back in time, and it was up to her?

Nod walked up and patted Sinta’s shoulder. “Thanks, Nod,” Sinta said. “We’ll be fine.”

“I just wonder what or who Crag’s bringing back,” Pinta said, his tone even more gruff than usual. He stared into the flames, clenching his jaw.

“An army,” Adelia said from the doorway. Jeremy stood behind her, wide-eyed and pale.

“Adelia, thank the fates,” Pinta said, walking toward them. He didn’t throw his arms around her skirts but looked like he wanted to.

“We were worried,” Sinta said, not leaving her newly lit fire and pot. Nod ran to her, not shy about wrapping himself in her skirts. She reached down and put a reassuring hand on his head.

“Where did all these Folk come from?” Jeremy asked, looking around the cabin.

Pinta scanned the room, nodding, and said, “Most of them were hiding in town, but felt Adelia’s power when she unleashed that torrent on Crag’s enforcers.”

“That was a powerful message for them, an act of war against Crag,” Sinta said. “They found us on the walk home.”

“Refugees,” Adelia said. Folk bustled about, some of them carrying artifacts, others walking from window to window. A few stopped and stared at Adelia, the awe evident on their faces. There were tiny Folk with wings, Folk with horns, and some with both. They were yellow, purple, black, green, and blue. Some figures were almost as tall as Adelia, but most were the size of Pinta and Sinta. “And we were already at war with him.”

“They’re searching for us now,” Pinta said. “They’re close, but the cabin’s glamer is holding for now, and they can’t find us.”

“But we don’t have much time,” Sinta said, turning back to the fire.

“I might have been a little rash with Crag’s enforcers. But we’re going to be fine now. We have all the pieces, and I’ll finally be back to full strength.” She glanced back at Jeremy. It wasn’t exactly affectionate, but it was a hopeful look. He pulled the bag out of his pocket.

“We’ll need it if he’s bringing an army,” Pinta said.

“What kind of army?” Sinta asked.

“That’s why he left.” Adelia strode to the center of the room, quickly falling back into her position of authority. Pinta followed without question, understanding his place in the family.

“He’s brought back Folk from another Sanctuary.”

“His old one or another one he conquered?” Sinta asked. “I’ve never heard of anything like this.”

“Hundreds of them,” Jeremy said. “We saw them on the way back.”

“I haven’t either,” Adelia said. “But, you know, my memories of the distant past are fragments.”

“You need to unbind from the gold, then you’ll remember. I know you will,” Sinta said. “I can see the weaving in the gold; it affects your thoughts and your memory. Some kind of block or something that complicates your mind, but I can’t figure out what it is.” She looked apologetically at Adelia.

“It’s okay, Sinta. You’ve tried, and I can’t unbind now, anyway. You’re ready to knock if we have to?” Adelia asked.

“I am, but I’ve never done it. I know there is a sanctuary to the south,” Sinta said.

“It’s old and wild. We don’t want to chance the hospitality of wild Folk unless we have to.” Adelia tilted her head and half-closed her eyes. “We’ll knock further south at the Speedway.”

“Where is that?” Sinta asked, staring into the fire intently as if looking for it.

“Colorado, probably Denver. But I’m not very good at figuring out the geography.” Adelia said. “I just feel it. You’re good with the details. I bring the power.” She let a small smile cross her lips as she looked down at Sinta, staring into the fire.

“But how do you know it’s there?” Sinta asked. “You didn’t look into the fire.” She gestured to the flames.

“I can sense it; I don’t know how,” Adelia said with a troubled look. “I can’t remember how I do some things. I just do them.”

“You can knock that far?” Pinta said.

“I can. If I can sense it, I can reach it. I’ll do the knocking, Sinta.”

She nodded and said, “We’ll be ready.”

“And let’s hope they let us in,” Pinta said. “You are royalty, Adelia, so maybe that’ll be enough.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Sinta said.

“What do you mean, royalty?” Jeremy asked.

“I’m not royal, Jeremy. Folk aren’t royalty. We’re born from humans who might have been, but we aren’t,” she said.

“But Pinta just said you were.”

“Pinta says a lot of things.” She glared at Pinta, and he smiled back with a glint in his eye.

“You ruled your sanctuary in the Czech Republic?” Jeremy asked.

“Far from it. The lord of my Sanctuary is stronger than me, and his reach is… it doesn’t matter. I must concentrate.” She looked over at Sinta. “Can you help, Sinta? When we dropped the missing pieces in, I felt the connection, but my full strength hasn’t returned. Now I’ll connect with the bag through the seer here in the Sanctuary. Can you watch the weaving and see what’s blocking me?”

Sinta nodded and stepped beside Jeremy, squinting up at him through her large, round eyes.

“We better start, Jeremy; we don’t have much time,” Adelia said, nodding to the bag of gold in his hand. He held it out, and Adelia peered down into the open top.

She slid her fingers across his skin and gently pressed her palms into the backs of his hands until the bag closed. Was it his imagination, or was he really feeling her flesh, soft and warm? Without deciding to, he closed his eyes as Adelia’s presence surrounded him, a silvery haze of reassuring energy, strong and vibrant with something wild underneath, something uncontrollable just below the surface. Power hummed through him, down his arms into the bag, and back through his body. The leather grew hot, almost intolerable. He winced but held onto the bag as the silver haze melted into a red-tinged fog, and the raging power underneath, wild and untamed, shook his hands. A torrent just out of reach, longing to be free. He gritted his teeth and held on despite the searing pain spreading through his palms and fingers, lancing up his forearms. He wouldn’t let her down again, no matter what.

“I can’t reach…” she whispered, trailing off.

He opened his eyes and saw that she was pale and shaking.

“What’s wrong?” Jeremy asked.

“We’re missing another piece,” Sinta said.

The cabin fell silent.

“Can you find it?” Pinta asked.

“I know where it is,” Adelia said slowly. She walked across the room and sat down in a chair next to the antique dining table. “Logan,” she whispered.

“Logan was your—” Jeremy started, but Adelia continued as if she didn’t hear him.

“On the field,” she said with a rasp in her voice. “The battle of Verdun, in the trenches. He lies there. Still, I can feel it now.”

“You were there,” Jeremy said.

“A long time ago,” she said.

“And now we’re heading back,” Pinta said, gruff, resolute. He stared at Adelia, hands on hips. “We’ll pick it up on the way to your old Sanctuary; it’s on the way.”

“I won’t put you in harm’s way—”

“You don’t have a choice,” Sinta said.

“We all go,” Pinta said.