Pinky wrinkled her nose. "I smell smoke. Are we on fire?"

Flower checked the cart. "I don't think so." She was about to ask the nice men in the masks if they were on fire when raised voices caught her attention.

"Yeah, by order of the king," a woman said. She sounded a little bit cross.

"The king never gave those orders to us," a male voice replied.

"Takes you into his confidence, does he? Get out of my way, would you? King said the pink one was to go with me."

Their voices dropped. The cart stopped moving. A young blonde woman marched up to the cage, flanked by two masked men. The lines of worry on her face smoothed when she saw Flower and Pinky.

"Hello," Flower said.

"Give me some breathing space, you two." The blonde scowled at her escort, who took a step back. Then she pressed up to the bars. "Are you alright? We haven't got long before they realise."

"Realise what?" Pinky studied her nails with great interest. "I like pink," she added.

The blonde looked from her to Flower. "What does she mean, she likes pink?"

Flower shrugged. "I don't know, sweetie, we just met. What's your name?"

The blonde said some very bad words.

Pinky blinked. "Do bulls really do that?"

The blonde said more bad words, then motioned to a masked man, who jammed a key in the door and yanked it open. He reached in and hauled Pinky out.

"Hey!" Pinky shook herself down. "Watch the hair. What's going on?"

The blonde returned to the cart, curled her hands around the bars and looked hard at Flower. "I'm sorry," she said.

"What for?"

She didn't answer. She pushed off the bars, put an arm around Pinky's shoulders and hurried away.

Puzzled and vaguely troubled by the whole thing, Flower waved at her retreating back, but after a minute, dropped her hand. They weren't looking. Before long the blonde and Pinky had disappeared in the night and the cart continued on its way.

She next woke up to the feel of sunshine on her face and something tickling her nose. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them.

A girl with red hair and freckles and bright eyes the same blue as the sky overhead grinned down at her.

Flower sat up and looked around with interest. The grass was green, the flowers were bright and the air fresh and sweet. "Hello," she said. "Where am I?"

"I don't know." The redhead stuck the flower stalk she'd been tickling Flower's face with behind her ear. "But it's terribly nice here. We haven't had anyone new for a while."

Flower saw a white line painted on the grass near her hand. How curious. She reached out to touch it.

"Don't do that!" the redhead grabbed her hand away.

"Why?"

The redhead picked up a stick and tossed it at the line. As soon as it touched the air overhead, the stick burst into flame and then disappeared.

Flower inched away from the line. "Gosh, that's a bit dangerous."

"Yes it is. Except for that, it's terribly nice here. Come on in and meet everyone."

Flower's hand went to her neck. Something important was missing. There was something she was supposed to do. Wasn't there?

She took the redhead's hand and followed her up the slope to where she could see muses, lots and lots of them.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE.

Freakin Fairies straggled into the late afternoon sunlight, blind, scrawny creatures caked with dirt and blood and that definable tinge of silver that tainted the eyes, the nails, even the hair after too long underground. Leather tunics hung in ragged strips from their backs. Dreadlocks snarled and tangled on their heads. It was hard to tell if they were angry or shell shocked or even just happy to finally feel the sun on their faces.

Nikifor watched them from the shade of the trees. Not a flicker of emotion crossed his face to betray the storm that raged inside him. He did not look at the body that lay on a makeshift stretcher, covered by a tattered blanket, the only shroud that could be found for a hero the people of Shadow would never know they had.

He didn't look at Ishtar Ishtar and her Bloody Fairies, either. The battered and bruised band clustered by the path, talking in low voices, counting their injuries, trading stories as fairies always did. Nikifor knew they would not be part of whatever came next. The divisions between the fairy tribes were too old and too deep. Ishtar would probably never even admit to having helped them.

Stones crunched underfoot. The Bloody Fairies moved off into the shadows in a silent, tight group without as much as a glance behind. Ishtar gave him one grim nod. "See you later, Curse Boy." Then she disappeared after them.

He tried to focus on the Freakin Fairies. He tried to feel good that he'd helped them. It could have been the first real, sane, constructive thing he'd done in his life, but- He flinched away from the thought, from the dried blood caked on his hands, from the blood-spattered axe at his side and the body behind him.

A hammer strike on rock echoed right through his skull, drawing his attention back to the cave mouth he never wanted to see again.

The fairies leaped, one by one, impossibly high jumps and yells of fury and always an impact, with whatever weapon they could find, on the same fissure in the rock face. Hairline cracks fractured into a web of lines. Tiny rocks rained down with every blow.

Nikifor put his hands to his head and tried to block out the jarring sound, but it went on and on until the rocks cracked, rumbled and collapsed in on themselves. The fairies scrambled back from the cloud of dust and rubble the cave-in threw up.

A hand tapped him on the shoulder. "You okay mate?"

Nikifor nodded. "Fine."

"I hope so. You're not much use to me if you don't have the stomach for this." Clockwork jammed his wide-brimmed hat on his head and gestured at the mine. "You can consider the silver supply cut off, at least from this mine. I'm taking them back to Dream to be relocated until all this is over."

"Over?" Nikifor echoed. "What do you mean, over?"

Clockwork gave him a closer look. "You know, over. When the king's dead and honest fairies can be left to live in peace and all that. That's your job now."

"My job?" Nikifor dug his nails into his palms. He felt ill, oppressed, overwhelmed by the task the Freakin Fairy described.

"Or you could let the king destroy Shadow and Dream. Your call, mate, but either way there's a war coming." Clockwork shrugged. "We're going by Quicksilver Village if you want to come along. I presume you still want that curse lifted."

Quicksilver Village was on his way.

Nikifor and Clockwork carried Fitz on a stretcher between them. After this stop they would take him home to his clan for burial.

The Silvers were an enigma to Nikifor. They'd barely stopped in their village, hardly looked around. They couldn't stand to spend even a moment in their ancestral home.

"Bad things happened here mate," was the only explanation Clockwork offered.

Bad things had happened in Quicksilver Village too.

Nikifor wasn't surprised to find the neat little collection of houses he and Flower had left behind battered by some long-cold battle. Thatch hung off the rooves. Fireplaces were kicked in. In some places whole walls were missing, the edges of what remained blackened and burned.

But the village wasn't empty: the central fire still burned under the huge cooking pot. Tick Tick and Tock Tock flanked it, each of them guarding over the bent, greying figure who stayed close to the warmth of the flames.

Coalfire Quicksilver uncurled himself and stretched to his full height of just over four foot when the Silver clan entered the village. He watched their passage silently and only spoke when Nikifor and Clockwork laid down their burden.

"So you succeeded, Muse." His voice had lost the spark Nikifor remembered. "Where's your lady friend?"

"She went to visit the king, Uncle," Clockwork said.

Nikifor flinched.

"She'll be dead then." Coalfire glanced over the assembled fairies, then back to Nikifor. "Moon Troopers came back after you left. They shut down the mine and took everyone but me. Tick Tick and Tock Tock came back. Strike Pin too, but he's gone to look for the others. You're too late, Muse." His voice broke and he sat down.

Nikifor looked at his feet. His vision blurred from the tears that worked their way from his eyes. It was all for nothing. How the Tormentor would laugh at him now. For every fairy he rescued, a thousand more were missing or vampire food. He'd made no difference. None at all.

"Give him a break, Uncle," Clockwork said. "He did what you asked. If it wasn't for him my whole clan would be dead or enslaved still."

Coalfire turned a jaded look on him. "Who are you to speak to me, Clockwork Silver? You left a long time ago, just like your no-good father, running away to Dream and leaving us to deal with the troubles!"

Clockwork's teeth went on edge.

Nikifor laid a calming hand on the fairy's shoulder, but when Coalfire viewed the gesture with a frown of deep suspicion, he moved his hand away. "You pledged to lift the curse you laid on me if I completed this task," he said. "I did as you asked."

Coalfire's eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. "No."

"No?"

"Can't be done."

"But you promised!" Nikifor's voice rose. The curse thundered its way up to make him say something loud and stupid.

Coalfire snickered. "I believe I said I'd lift the curse if you took the Silvers back to their village. Maybe. But you've brought them to mine, and I'm not in the mood." He thumped his stick on the ground. "Don't worry son. It'll fade over the next ten or fifteen years anyway, and what's that to a muse?"

There was no point in spending even another second in this kind of company. Nikifor clamped his mouth shut over the words trying to force themselves out. He picked up Fitz in his arms, turned his back and walked away.

Clockwork followed. "Where are you going?"

The teeth clenching failed. "Anywhere I don't have to look at black-souled Freakin Fairies!" Nikifor exploded.

Clockwork's face shut down.

"I'm sorry." Nikifor took a deep breath. "I didn't mean it, that was the curse. I'm taking Fitz home."

"And then?"

"Then I'm going to find Flower."

Clockwork shook his head. "Anyone else would've given up on her by now."

"I will never give up on my friend."

"I need to take everyone else back to Dream. But you know where to find me if you need me, or if you need to relocate someone."

Nikifor halted his rapid stride and swung around to face Clockwork. "How? How will you return, when Fitz is dead?"

Clockwork avoided looking at the shrouded body in Nikifor's arms. "I can open a door anywhere. So can anyone who's crossed the worlds. We just don't advertise the fact, and neither should you. Just be careful where you open a door, in case you come out somewhere you shouldn't."

"So where will you go through?"

"Somewhere near the Ishtar village, to be safe. If you'll just wait, we can travel together."

"I'll make better time on my own. Goodbye, Clockwork Silver." Nikifor walked away, his stride rapid, his back straight. He felt Clockwork's eyes on his back until the forest swallowed them both.

Nikifor's rapid pace ate up the miles between Quicksilver and Green Dragon Forests, that darker, wilder place where Fitz's tribe lived. He walked through the night and the next morning, never stopping, never slowing. The sun was high overhead when he strode unhesitating into Green Dragon forest.

A mossy rabbit trail tracked and twisted through high tree ferns and rambling creepers with bulbous pale leaves. Tiny creatures scrambled away at his approach. A centipede the size of his hand lurked on a half-rotted tree stump and watched him pass.

Nikifor made all the noise he could manage, from cracking twigs to saying bad words every time he stumbled under Fitz's weight. He'd never been this far into Green Dragon territory beforeat least not that he rememberedbut he was sure they'd find him.

The forest closed around him like a dark, cool cave. The trees thickened. Sunlight only pierced the canopy in thin, dusty spears of light. He'd been walking for an hour when they surrounded him.

Tall, hooved, dressed in roughly stitched leather and leaves and armed with bows and axes, each and every forest person pointed something sharp in his direction.

An elderly man with long, flowing white hair and spiral tattoos on his bare chest barred the way. "Explain your intrusion, Muse."

Nikifor gently laid his burden on the path between them. "This man was my friend and mentor and a hero of Shadow," he said. "All he desired before he died at the hands of a false muse was to return home."

The weapons lowered a fraction. The old man approached the body and lifted aside the shroud. He looked down, his face grave, then replaced it. When he looked back at Nikifor a single tear trembled, but did not fall from his eye. "That my brother should return home in such a way," he said. "We are grateful." He motioned to two of his companions, who lifted Fitz and set off down the path. The rest followed them.

That was it then. His task done. He was free to find Flower. The knowledge settled inside him, as empty and hollow as a drum. What he wouldn't have given for Fitz's counsel now.

Nikifor turned back. He wanted nothing more than to leave, but a young man and woman were in the path. The woman had blonde curls flowing over her shoulders and the hard look of a warrior. The man looked like a much, much younger version of Fitz.

"Who was that?" asked the man.

"Fitz Falls." Nikifor regarded him steadily. "A hero."

The man's eyes widened a little. "And who are you?"