Leaving Olly in the room with Wystan fills me with a certain sort of dread. I've been feeling tiny glimpses of his reticence and fear every time he walks into the room, so it's been nibbling at the back of my mind. If Olly is feeling fearful, he's surely afraid of hurting Wystan. The elder man could surely do nothing to stop Olly if he lost control, but…

  Bah! I trust Olly. I choose to trust Olly. He said he'll ask for help if he needs it, and I just have to believe he will. He wasn't lying when he said it, I know it for a fact. Not willingly, at least.

  "Why are you here?" Alya's voice cuts through my ruminations very sharply, reminding me that I'm supposed to be talking with her.

  "I already told you why I'm here. I was repaying a debt. Your daughter saved me and this was her request. What more information do you want?" I snip back at her.

  "What I'm wondering is how you conveniently ran into the daughter of the man who has done more research into the fae than anyone else in the world and apparently used it to facilitate this meeting. Your little boyfriend said that you all thought that Wystan will be able to help you with something important? You clearly have ulterior motives beyond repaying a debt." Her eyes sharpen as she peers at me. Not one ounce of give in her features. Not one mote of the calm and comfort she showed to her husband. "Mereia is a dear girl, but she is not savvy the way other people might be, so I want to know why you're here beyond that debt."

  I must admit to being made quite angry by the accusation. At least until I realize that she is actually right. I calm quickly on the admission to myself. "Can we sit and talk, then? I'll tell you everything I can — but I will preface it by saying that there are things I cannot and will not tell you in order to protect my companions no differently than you are doing with and for Wystan."

  She eyes me suspiciously for a moment longer before gesturing for me to follow and leading me upstairs to what I presume to be her office and personal room. The entire place stands in sharp contrast to the rest of the house it is in pristine condition. Not cluttered in the slightest. Frankly, it's fastidious to the degree I might call compulsive. Peering around, every single item is at perfect right angles relative to one another despite the room being rounded. Books on desks perfectly aligned with pencils which are perfectly aligned with the desks themselves which are perfectly aligned in relation to the sea and wave-depicting carpets. At each corner of the room, there are vast basins of water the bubble and burble from little fountains depicting mermaids. And in the dead center of the space, there's a standalone bathtub that everything else is arrayed around.

  All of it together informs and all-but confirms a certain suspicion.

  Alya gestures at some chairs near the window and bids I sit while she prepares tea. I oblige while waiting. After a minute, she comes and joins me, crossing her leg over the other daintily — something visually at odds with her somewhat gruffer garb and kind-of rude demeanor.

  "Spill it, then." She demands once I've taken my first sip of the tea — tea that tastes like lake-water and water lilies. It's underpinned by something otherwise familiar that further calms me as I notice.

  I settle in to tell her the story, less specific details about Olly's condition beyond how it relates to Wystan's own — at least according to Olly — and how Olly wants to try to help Wystan.

  "So, you're coming to try to fix your boy by using my ailing husband?"

  I snap. I've been trying to be polite, and respectful of her clear desire to hide her nature, but I'm getting quite tired of being treated like some surreptitious criminal by another fae.

  "What, exactly, is your problem? You know full well that I'm not going to lie to you." I cut to the quick.

  "My problem is that the last thing Wystan needs is for someone to come give him false hope and to 'make his dreams come true' while I'm doing my damndest to fix my mistakes! Least of all some meddling 'princess' who wants to come get a story to share at her shows." Her face turns cold, and the words tell the truth of it. Her problem isn't with me in specific, but fae in general.

  "Well, if you wished to give him real hope, maybe you should have revealed yourself to him? Your daughter told me that he's never met a fae despite decades of searching and that's not quite accurate, is it? Were you waiting for his final days to show him the truth or something silly like that?" I fire back, gripping the little teacup more sharply.

  "I have no idea what you're talking about—"

  "You know full well what I'm talking about. When you cast your spell to sharpen Wystan's mind you drew from my own gate to do it. My question is only if you're of the courts or are of the freefolk. I'm leaning towards the latter given your ridiculous hostility towards me. Tell me, you are fae, are you not?"

  The accusation cows her entirely. Having her shift uncomfortably in her chair like there's worms crawling under her skin. The uncertainty actually sees some of her glamor warp and warble — clearly she hasn't actually shifted her form like I do, preferring an illusion for some reason. I can feel her personal spark and it's very weak. Maybe it's a concession to devoting magic to keeping Wystan whole? "I don't have to answer you." It's a very meek response, petulant.

  "You needn't. I know what you are by fact. Nobody else could draw power from me like that. So I ask again, what, exactly is your problem? I came here to fulfill a debt and we realized that we might be able to help Wystan and Olly. That's my only concern. I don't really care about some naiad hiding under the nose of the mortals — much as I do have questions about that. If you truly wish us leave, we will, but know that you'll be denying both of them a chance to get better for fear of…whatever you're afraid of." I finish, settling back into the chair to let her make her choice.

  It takes every ounce of self-restraint that I have to not reach out to listen to her internal thoughts like all fae at home would — not every court responds well to that sort of thing even though it simplifies a lot of things. The freefolk even less so, being so independently minded as they are.

  "Right. Is it that obvious?" She asks with a small voice, not even a hint of her former aggression. Gratefully.

  "To me? Yes. I knew what you were the moment we walked up to the house. It's why I openly promised you the way I did when you finally deigned to show yourself to us. The mortals don't know what Elysia feels like, but I most definitely do — and so much of it being here really only could mean either a fae or some powerful relic of one of the courts was here. So, can we dispense with the obfuscation and speak frankly?" I sip back at the tea. It's quite unpleasant, but I'm not about to be rude. Naiads have terrible taste in tea for a bunch of reasons — they almost always prefer it room temperature and to taste like their preferred body of water. Still, a naiad of a lake at least will have things like water flowers to "flavor" it. I had tea from one once that tasted like stagnant puddle water before and it was atrocious.

  "Then I guess I'll be direct." She switches tongues smoothly. Moving from Eldaran common to the lilting singsong tones of faespeech. It affords more freedom of expression for us than any mortal tongue and will steadily fill the area around us with Elysia that's carried out with our words. It will have interesting effects as it does. "I distrust most other fae who aren't of the Court of Dreams and Desires. The Enchanted is clear in their belief that the other courts have no remote idea what they're doing when they interact with mortals. Particularly your court and the militant fools of the Court of Blood and Rust or whatever they're calling themselves now."

  "Oh? What do you mean by that?" She gets up and moves over to lock the door and close the windows before continuing. As she lowers herself into the tub, dispelling her glamor alongside the area around us starting to take on the dreamlike state that most things do when inundated with Elysia. Evershifting, painted by the thoughts and words being thunk and spoken within it.

  "I mean that the Fae of Tale and Song are well-intentioned children who play at understanding mortals without ever actually trying to learn about them. Whenever you meddle, you do it clumsily and with the best of intentions — which is of little consequence to the results. It's not personal. Our court prides itself on healthy interactions with the world, so your casual meddling when it suits you and your stories is distasteful."

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  As her glamor dissolves, the tub fills with water, letting her indistinct lower half disappear into it to take on its truer form as dispersed water. Water lilies, algae, and similar things crop up around her readily. This must be why I was sensing it before we even met — she must do this regularly. It explains the lack of a bed. I doubt if anyone wandered in on her that they would see anything more than her preferred form bathing.

  Despite the harshness of the words themselves, her tone is pretty clear. She's being informative more than anything else. It's the same tone that I've called her court distasteful to Ayre before. No malice, just an honest personal judgement.

  And it's one I really can't disagree with. "I must admit you're right there. I left my court to support my companions to see them helped through the world. I've always chafed at the blanket rules against meddling for those exact reasons."

  She seems surprised by my admission. Though which part does it isn't clear. "I had assumed you were just like the Traveller when you revealed who you were. Taking a gate to sustain yourself to go meddle with the world at large. That does explain why you feel nothing like him, though. Having a different aspected gate explains your divergent opinions, at least." Her long blue hair spreads out as she lowers more of her body to dissolve into the water — keeping just her head above the water to keep talking.

  "What do you mean? I inherited this gate from my father when I coalesced." I ask, feeling a little shaken at the flippant comment.

  "I couldn't tell you more specifically. I just know you feel strange. I'm no Elder and I've never spent time around them. But I've met the Traveller before and you feel distinctly different." Her arms materialize out of the water into a shrug. "But I feel I still owe you some answers after my earlier behavior. I was worried that your revealing yourself to Wystan would "end" his dream. Which would end my involvement here without a new way to sustain myself. It's only by grace of his yearning and striving that I have been able to be here as long as I have. Being forced to leave him because someone meddled would be devastating to both of us."

  It calls me back to my doomed adventure with Caoimhín and how I had to sustain him with my power for us to make it back to the court and his grove so he could properly recuperate. It's a simple fact that courtly fae can't leave the courts safely for a bunch of reasons. Being unable to sustain their loss of Elysia is a major facet of it. Freefolk don't have that problem since they're used to lower densities and tend to draw from nature itself, rather than the connections to the mortals we have.

  Maybe I can do something to help? "Ah. I always wondered how the fae of Dreams and Desires sustained themselves for your involvement with the mortals. I've heard…mostly unsavory things."

  "Of course that's where your mind goes." She slips a little lower and blows bubbles with the laugh. "Stories about us usually miss the point. My entire life for my court is not just living a lurid romance novel with wanton sex and love. Those things are nice — you'd struggle to find anyone who disagrees with that sentiment — but they aren't hardly strong enough emotions to call the amounts of Elysia into being to sustain a fae outside our lands. No, you naughty little thing. There are far greater sources of dreams and desires in the world apart from base emotion. Wystan's striving to learn everything there is about the unknowable, and sharing it with me as a peer and more has kept me healthy and well here — even though I have needed to take breaks to return home on occasion to recuperate. I've bene needing to do it more often, which has been awful knowing how Wystan is. I can't afford to leave him for long or I'll risk him worsening."

  "Which is why my reveal could be problematic. You're worried that if he gets that "payoff", it'll mean you won't be able to sustain yourself here?" I rise from the chair, letting my shape shift back to my preferred form and fluttering over to her and landing on a lily pad and spinning to sit with a flourish. "Can I make you an offer?"

  She rises slightly so she can meet me head-on, clearly reading the gravity in the tone of my voice being reflected in the air. "Sure. I reserve my ability to say no, of course, but please go ahead."

  I muster up everything I have, as it's a huge thing, but I can't really abide having potentially caused a problem here after seeing how she is with Wystan. "Putting it simply, I have too much Elysia. The gate in my spirit is fractured and has been my entire life. Because of that, it's always inundating me with the stuff of our creation." I shake out my hand, letting the Elysia dust spray out with each motion. "Can't always contain it, so I don't really bother unless I'm glamoured and trying to pass off as a mortal. I would offer to shave a fragment of it off for you so you can sustain yourself here indefinitely. I would give this to you with no expectation of payment or a debt owed. We would help one another plenty in the near future such that any scales will be evened out."

  She stares back at me with wide eyes for a few moments, looking reticent. But after a heartbeat, she nods.

  Alya and I have had a total turnaround on our relationship after that first meeting. While I still feel the tiny hollow in my spirit left behind, it's a worthy cause. I just don't think I'll be forgetting about that anytime soon. She's positively buoyant on a day-to-day, looks far, far less tired and generally more…faelike. At least for my given idea of how the fae typically act.

  It actually makes me wonder if having taken that fragment of me into her might have affected her in a fundamental way like exposure to one of the Elders can do to lesser fae, but we discussed the risks, so she'll live with whatever happens.

  "Can we chat about the book thing? Olly mentioned that Wystan said that you had to take away the tome that probably inflicted this state on him, right?"

  The naiad before me melts into the water, disappearing in entirety into a tide of dejected-sounding bubbles popping. After a few moments of that, she returns, looking exhausted and sad. "I failed to recognize what was happening. I'd never seen anything like it, and Wystan has always been a little bit eccentrically minded on the best of days. His poring over a project to the exclusion of all else was a major part of what saw me attach myself to him to help him. But I didn't realize the gravity of what was happening until far too late. Some forgetfulness is to be expected in mortals, especially older ones.

  "But…I couldn't sense the magic at work. I still can't. There was something entirely unlike anything I've ever seen in the world worked upon that tome — it's why I brought it to Wystan in the first place. I don't know of any other mortals in the world who understood magic as well as he did…which is past-tense now, I suppose." Her mood plummets, so I reach out and put a hand on one of her scales to give her some joy back. She shies away from the touch, though, looking uncomfortable.

  "It isn't necessarily past-tense. I don't want to think of it like that. You've been working hard to maintain his mind, and if Olly is right, then there's probably something that can be done. We just have to be hopeful! No story was ever seen to its end by giving into despair, you know. Say what you will about our court, we know that as fact no differently than you know of the importance of chasing dreams."

  She softens a bit, moving back into reach and allowing the contact again. "Despair is a poor look for our kind anyways." She offers meekly.

  "It definitely is. Now, that book doing what it did might be helpful to Olly. You said you took it away and gave it to someone?" I relax back onto the lily pad, sprawling out fully to stretch. I've really missed having another fae to talk to, even accounting for the relatively dire topics we often commiserate on.

  "A former colleague of sorts. One of the mortals I'd met before knowing Wystan. Tannan Lotris. He's a master magi when it comes to practical spellcasting — far less interested in the theory of things last I'd spoken to him. He wasn't the ideal person based on his proclivities, but I couldn't think of anyone better who wouldn't ask me uncomfortable questions about where or how I'd found it. And even if he couldn't figure it out, he would never have let the book out of his sight once what it could do to someone was clear. His kyn are given to the protection of things and are fairly insular by nature."

  I nod along, keeping information stored away as we go. "And where is he in specific? Is it far?"

  She blows some more bubbles. "Kind of. It used to be farther, but the trains made the distance substantially smaller. Are you familiar with the stories about The Lost Court?"

  The question robs me of my good mood immediately. I know all about the Lost Court. It's the forbidden knowledge that Father told me I should never tell anyone the truth of. Common knowledge is that the Lost Court was a court from before the foundation of the current ones — something that became deprecated in the world by changing circumstances. All fae are forbidden from going there as a matter of due course. It's the one place we are absolutely forbidden from wandering. Even the freefolk.

  The truth of the matter is that all of that is mostly correct, but lacking details — Father and the other Elders wouldn't lie, but withholding information is different.

  No, the Lost Court is the remnants of the Court of Guides and Guardians — the former domain of the Demon King. Father said that it became unlivable in the wake of that war and had to be abandoned by the fae in entirety. Any fae who spends any length of time in there is sapped of their life and will rapidly, so it's entirely off-limits as much for safety as for containing that information.

  "I…am. I know where it is, too. At least loosely. Your friend is near there?" I keep my voice measured and controlled. I really don't want to spread this to the second most gossipful court in the world.

  She nods, splashing around a little. "He lives on the edge of the Lost Courts lands and near the Eldaran city there. It's more or less a fort and a hub for freelancer adventurers. It's called Monitor. My understanding is that it's given over to containing the monsters that regularly come out of the Lost Court. One of the first cities formed after the nation was, too."

  I listen dutifully, nodding through a growing sense of dread in my core to try to keep focused and objective. "What's he doing there?"

  "Researching the calamities, I believe. Last we spoke he was trying to figure out a way to cure them or kill them cleanly."

  I scramble to my feet, smiling wide. I can ignore the second bit. Anyone who is at least trying to fix someone like Olly is someone I want to know. "Please tell me everything you can!"