The next morning, the trickster felt Capala nudging him awake. "Puck, wake up," she said softly. "We have to go."

Robin groaned and sat up, his limbs stiff and sore. His eyes flew open when he smelled smoke. "What's on fire?"

Capala swallowed and pointed out to the horizon. Out in the distance, a thin line of smoke rose up into the sky. "They burned the cabin," she murmured

"Oh." Puck took her extended hand and she helped him to his feet. He saw the shadows under her eyes and saw the stiff way she moved, and knew she felt as tired as him. "Where are we going?"

"I have people down in Mexico we can talk to," Capala explained. "I think we're fairly close to the border. Just head south and I'm sure we'll find a road."

"And what about food? And water?" Robin frowned.

The soldier sighed. "I don't know, but I'm sure we'll find something."

Puck forced a grin. "How very optimistic of you." The two shared a small smile before remembering the third member of their party. The trickster's heart sped up when he saw Meghan standing a few feet away, staring out at the sky with her arms wrapped around her body. "We need to talk about this," he whispered. "

"I know," Capala said. "I just...I don't know where to begin."

Robin didn't reply. He walked over to the Iron Queen, laying a hesitant hand on her shoulder and squeezing. "Meghan. Are you ready to go?"

A few seconds passed. "Yeah," she whispered. "I'm ready."

Puck swallowed. Slowly, he pulled Meghan into a hug and held her close. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed, burying her face in his chest like she had done so many times before. "What happened, Meghan?" he whispered, stroking her hair. "What happened to my princess?"

Her hands clenched around his shirt. "She died when you were shot, Robbie." Meghan took a deep, shaking breath. "I'm sorry. For leading them to you. I was on the radio, trying to contact Glitch, and I found their frequency. They said they had Ash, and I...I told them everything. I'm so sorry."

"...So am I." Puck released Meghan and wiped his eyes. He met the woman's gaze, her eyes red and watery. He sighed. "I can't forgive you. Not yet. But I don't hate you."

The Iron Queen nodded and swallowed. "I understand."

Capala finally walked over. Her eyes said she had heard everything, but her voice betrayed nothing. "Are we...okay?"

Meghan and Puck shared a look, then nodded. "Yes," Robin said. "We are."

"Good." The soldier took a deep breath. "Then we should get moving."


By the evening of their second day on the run, Puck believed he would be perfectly content to never eat cactus again. They ate nothing but what they could scavenge in the flat, dry world of the desert, which amounted to little more than roast twigs and cactus juice. Robin longed for a glass of faery wine and an entire feast just for him.

The setting sun cast long, eerie shadows across the landscape. The last flickers of sunlight illuminated the only building they'd seen for miles; a dilapidated old gas station, with a few dusty cars and trucks parked out in front. They lumbered towards it and collapsed in the shade of the front porch. Puck coughed, and he could have sworn a small cloud of dust came out his mouth.

Their natural glamour shielded them from view, and they watched several middle-aged Hispanic men pass them as they went in and out of the building, talking amongst themselves in relaxed Spanish and laughing at jokes the fey couldn't understand. Robin looked up when Capala laid her hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to grab some supplies," she murmured. "You want to come in with me or watch Meghan?"

The trickster glanced at Meghan. She seemed more alive than she had the past few days, but still not quite aware of the world around her. Her eyes had a vaguely dream-like quality about them. "I'll watch her," he replied. Capala nodded and went inside, the bell hanging above the door jingling as she did so. The man at the counter didn't seem to notice.

People went in and out of the gas station, creating a gentle breeze on the porch where Puck sat. He ran a hand through damp, sweaty hair and breathed deep. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Meghan start to doze off, her knees tucked up to her chestl and her head resting on her shoulder. Robin liked the idea of sleep. His eyelids threatened to fall shut from exhaustion when he heard Capala speak inside the building.

Puck opened his eyes and cocked his head, listening to Capala rattle off a string of spanish. For one, the trickster thought, when did she learn to speak spanish and why didn't she tell us, and two, who is she talking to? When his thought finished Capala fell silent, and Robin heard another male, muffled voice reply.

He stood and walked inside the building. Capala held a crate of bottled water and some food under one arm, her free hand clutching her dagger as she stared at a short Hispanic man, his body turned so he wasn't quite facing her. They both looked up on Puck's entrance. The man spoke. "Es éste uno de tus amigos?"

Capala bit her lower lip and nodded. Robin came to her side. "What's going on?" he asked, drawing his dagger. "How can he see us?"

The female soldier spoke and asked the man what seemed like a question, but the strange man only shook his head and gestured to the door. Puck and Capala shared a look, but followed him outside, abandoning the water and snacks. They rounded the corner and stopped behind the building, near the dumpsters and in full view of the boiling sun. "English?" the man said, his accent heavy. "You english me?"

Capala frowned, and a heated dialogue passed between them. Eventually, she raised a hand and a wave of glamour covered the man. "Thank you," he said, in fluent english. He had no accent.

"Okay, what's going on?" Robin said, scowling and crossing his arms. "What is this? Who is this? Why are we leaving a trail of glamour just so we can hear this guy talk?"

"I apologize, my friend," the man said. "I understand you are on the run, and I am a very suspicious man."

Puck snorted. "Glad to see we're on the same page."

The man cracked a smile. "I am Miguel. I am a border smuggler, and I can see the duende."

Robin frowned. "Duende?"

"My people's word for your kind. In other lands, it means mogwai, elf, or aziza. You may know the term faery."

"Oh. You can see us, then?"

"Yes. I am one of few. I help the duende when I see them, and they give me good luck in my job. I would like to offer my help."

Puck turned to Capala, who shrugged. "He is mortal, and has no reason not to help us. He offered to drive us across the border and into Mexico. From there, I can get us home."

"So you think we should accept his offer?"

"I don't see why not."

Turning back to the man, Robin stuck out his hand. "Get us to Mexico, and you will never be questioned when you pass through the border."

Miguel grinned. "Agreed." He shook hands with the trickster. "Get what you can. Mexico is several days from here, and the drive will be long."

The short man left around the corner and the pair of fey could hear him get inside one of the cars parked outside. Puck turned to Capala and raised an eyebrow. "You never told us you could speak spanish."

Capala smirked. "There's a lot I don't tell you. Come on; we should grab some supplies."

They took what they could from the gas station and hopped on the back of Miguel's truck. The old, rusted vehicle lurched into motion, and soon the gas station faded into the distance. The drive was long and hot, and Robin grew glad they had spent so much time loading crates of water onto the truck bed as they went through many bottles of water.

Meghan had needed to be woken up before climbing into the truck, and now she was asleep again. Her long blond hair had become tangled and grimy, the shining platinum strands faded and dirty. Puck and Capala sat across from each other, speaking quietly to pass the time. "So," Robin began, lacing both hands behind his head. "who exactly do you know in Mexico?" He smiled. "Hey, that rhymed."

Capala smiled briefly. "Some distant relatives," she replied.

Robin cocked his head to one side, pulling his legs close to him and trying to get comfortable in the narrow space. "You've never talked about your family before."

The woman bit her lower lip and took a moment to speak. "I don't have much of one."

Puck raised both eyebrows. "You're an orphan?"

"No more than you, Robin." She paused as Robin gave her a strange look. "We're fae. We're born from the dreams of mortals. We don't have mothers and fathers."

"The fae breed, though."

Capala scoffed. "Rarely. You know this as well as I do; all fae have extremely low fertility. Otherwise, all our orgies would end up overpopulating the faery world."

Puck laughed. "Fair enough." A few minutes passed before the conversation resumed, each listening to the tire treads against the dirt road and the running of the engine.

"So what about you?" Capala asked. "Family, friends...?"

The smile faded from the tricksters face. "Not really. Aside from Aster."

"Who's Aster?"

"An older dryad I knew, back when I first woke up. She's...she's special to me. Closest thing I've ever had to a mom."

"...I see."

An awkward silence descended upon them. In an effort to ease the tension, Robin put on a sparkling grin. "Of course, I would like to count your fabulous self as my friend, Miss Cap."

Capala rolled her eyes. "You're a terrible flirt, Robin."

Puck laughed. "I think you mean wonderful flirt. Come on. Don't pretend you can resist my brilliant mind and sparkling wit. Not to mention my dashing good looks."

"My standards would have to be pretty low to call you good looking, Puck."

The trickster clapped a hand to his chest. "The insults! You shred my heart with your sharp tongue, my dear Capala. How could you-"

"Shut up, both of you," Meghan grunted, stirring from her sleep to glower at the pair of fey. "I'm trying to sleep."

"My apologies, Your Highness," Capala said at once. "I didn't realize we were being so loud."

Meghan snorted. "Just flirt quieter, please." With that, she rolled over on her side and resumed her slumber.

Capala's mouth opened slightly, her eyes wide. Robin grinned. "You're a terrible flirt, Miss Cap."

The woman scowled. "Shut up, Goodfellow."