Chapter 53

All of existence was pain.

That, Aleks learned well. It stretched into a never-ending infinity in which each inhalation was accompanied by fiery agony, and every twitch of muscle tore paper-thin flesh. He persisted whether he wished it or not, for death eluded him, refusing to hear his cries for mercy. On and on, it continued. The pain did not abate. He endured because he had no choice. There was no escape.

Until the pain vanished without warning. The abrupt cessation was such a shock, his eyes flew open. Aleks gasped, fingers curling into the surface beneath him. Had he died, then? Another, deeper breath, and his eyes sealed shut. No pain. The bliss of it drew tears down his cheeks. He was free. Aleks breathed, savoring each painless inhalation.

One hand dashed the moisture from his face. It was over. He almost felt giddy in his relief. His hand flopped back to his side, and he blinked the world into focus. Black fabric draped like a tent overhead. Hold up. His brow furrowed as he stared at the incongruous sight. Where was he? He tried to remember what had preceded this, but his brain felt sluggish. He lay upon a soft surface – a mattress? His fingers pressed down, measuring the density. Mattress, he confirmed. He was on a canopy bed. Dude, why would there be a canopy bed in Erebor? It totally went against the dwarves' gruff, no-frills demeanor.

His head tilted, bringing more of his surroundings into view. Aleks's frown deepened. The fabric wasn't the only thing in shades of midnight. The floor, walls, and bed beneath him all looked dipped in uniform monochromatic black. Hello. Had he died and landed in a Dracula flick?

Memory flared like an arc of lightning across the heavens. He bolted upright, heart thundering against his breastbone. He'd listened to that elf, and Thorin had done as he'd asked, handing him over to that freaky female. Of their own accord, his arms rose, and he stared at his hands in disbelief. He patted himself, barely pausing at the silky black robe draped around his body. Tugging the tie at his waist loose, he exposed the expanse of chest, shoulder and hip, his heart thumping as he found each in perfect condition. With a queer sense of dread, he lifted one foot and stared. A scar he'd borne since childhood no longer bisected the ball of his left foot.

What had he done? What had he done? Aleks's hand rubbed over his head. Not even the discovery that only stubble remained could distract him from the incredible truth: he was an idiot. How could he have done it?

Daphne. He surged from the bed. He'd promised Caranoran he'd protect her, and Thranduil had pretty much ordered him to it – not that his opinion mattered. Anger simmered to life. They were in Faerie. He'd done as the elf had said, and they were in Faerie. What was supposed to happen now?

Thorin's face swam before his eyes. Don't fail me, his king had said. You return to us.

Aleks took a deep breath. Don't ask for much, do you, Thorin? He crossed to the room's only window. His fingers bunched around the drapes as dread rose inside him. He didn't want to look. The fallout from what he'd permitted could be so much worse than his preconceived ideas. Little late for second thoughts, Hunt. They were here. He had to deal with it. He flicked back the black curtains.

The landscape outside his window was dim, darkened. At first, he assumed it was sunset, but a glance heavenward revealed the sun positioned directly overhead. He stiffened at the sight. That sun was wrong, every part of it, from its bluish tint and weak light to the hazy purple sky it produced. Aleks's fingers curled. Instant, visceral hunger for yellow sunshine burst into existence. His skin clamored to feel a true sun's warmth with sudden, desperate intensity. Stretching out one hand, all he got was cool air as a bluish glow illuminated his flesh.

His belly knotted. That insipid blue drove home just how not Earth or Middle Earth this was. He'd known it before, but now the fact sank in with the feeling of finality, like the sound of a prison door clanging shut.

A chill stole up his spine as he retracted the limb. His gaze dropped, and that chill grew sharp, jagged edges as a female's shrill scream rent the air. Before the question arose in his mind, he checked and ascertained - the scream had not come from Daph. His sister slept, her mind untroubled. For now.

His hands tightened about the onyx windowsill, and he hung his head. Every story he'd ever heard about this place began to race through his mind. The games. The fiendish delight the Old Ones took in playing with other people. The other monsters that dwelled here.

Aleks braced himself, and continued with his visual exploration. He was in a tower, some black-bricked, angular monstrosity straight out of a Hollywood flick. The only thing missing is the evil sorcerer, he jeered to himself. Then, Scratch that. An Old One qualified on both counts: evil and sorcerer-like. At the foot of the tower, people huddled in groups. Humans, he identified by their energy signatures. He couldn't see that clearly, but he thought he spotted blue jeans on some.

Could they perhaps be captives from Earth?

"Of course."

Aleks whipped around, ready with a snide comment. The words died unspoken, and he shrank back against the wall beside the window. The dude approaching him had the most horrible energy signature Aleks had ever seen, bar none. No mere glow, this was a flaming, molten vortex that whipped around like a cyclone. It's light was so brilliant, he couldn't look upon it long, his eyes watering and squinting with one glance. He ditched his satyr's sight in a hurry, reverting to human. Instant relief. He blinked afterimages from his scorched retinas, his heart thumping wildly.

The guy made not a sound as he moved, putting Aleks to mind of an elf, except this guy was taller even than Caranoran. And about a gazillion times freakier than Thranduil at his most threatening. Black hair hung to his waist, and the guy's eyes burned with a smoky light. The face was all wrong for an elf, too – this dude's bone structure was all razor-sharp edges and slanted eyebrows, giving him a more sinister air. With his each step, a sapphire robe slid across the glossy onyx floor.

Old One, Aleks labeled with a heaping dose of dismay.

"Earth did, after all, declare war upon us," the guy said.

Aleks swallowed. Poor saps. But it was himself and his sister he was more concerned about, not the moronic humans who had bearded the lion and found him much more dangerous than they'd dreamed. "M-my sister?" he dared to ask, irritated at the fear he betrayed.

The Old One smiled, and Aleks's bladder threatened to dump cargo and skedaddle. It was that freaky. The creature stared at him, and Aleks got the distinct impression the guy could see into his head. Duh, idiot. Old One.

The creature continued in a croon, "It seems Muriste made a vow on behalf of us all, Aleks Hunt." Hands clasped behind him, the Old One glided towards the window. Aleks ditched pride and sidled away with each step the guy took. "We could have had such fun. We could have made your wildest dreams come true. Freija, for example," the man continued.

Wait. What? Aleks forgot to be scared as his temper pricked.

The man clucked his tongue. "Alas, you must endure the hard reality."

Anger turned tail and ran in the face of that ominous proclamation. "Oh?"

The man smiled again. Aleks wished he would quit doing that. This dude should not smile. Ever. "It has become apparent that naiads are essential to preserve Faerie's stability. No naiads, and Faerie begins to wane."

Uh-huh. Whatever.

"We begin to wane." Clearly, that was the more serious consideration.

Wait. His flesh prickled. These Old Ones had gone to the trouble of hunting them down all the way in Middle Earth. They needed naiads. But that would mean… Just who had sent them to Middle Earth?

"That would be the question," the male murmured, and Aleks felt the hairs at the nape of his neck stand on end. "Who dared take what is ours?"

At that moment, Aleks was glad he didn't know, for he suspected this creature would have plucked the information straight from his mind.

"You presume correctly," the man said in a silken voice.

Mahal.

"You hope to escape and return to this Middle Earth," the creature… "Echnari," the Old One warned him with narrowed eyes.

Aleks hastily realigned his thinking. Echnari. He wouldn't forget it. Using any derogatory term would probably be a bad idea. Really bad.

"Correct," the echnari told him, his smoky eyes sliding towards him. "You will be allowed to roam my valley at will. You will not be bothered unless you attempt to disobey me or interfere with my games. Do not try to leave." A look crossed the echnari's face that unnerved Aleks just as much as the dude's smile. "Your dryad damaged herself," the Old One continued.

Aleks weighed his options, but then figured the guy could read his mind anyway. "She did."

"She will never be able to take tree form again," the Old One said with satisfaction. "Should you elect to turn White Stag, she will remain behind to pay the price."

Aleks's lips flattened. "I'd never desert her like that."

"Good." The creature turned and made for the door. "You will not find her," the guy continued. Those burning black eyes returned to him. "Do not try. You cost me, naiad. Healing the two of you cost us all." A thrill of fear traced down Aleks's spine at the hostility he read in the guy's eyes. "Be thinking of your preferences," the echnari said.

"My preferences?" Aleks's voice broke on the last syllable.

"Understand, we will allow you latitude rarely given to any of our subjects," the echnari said in a low, ominous rumble. "We require offspring from you."

Offs—

What? Aleks's belly dropped into his ankles even as his eyes bugged out.

"To preserve Faerie. Choose, Aleks Hunt. Choose the race from which your bride will come." That cold smile again appeared. "Or brides. Though I do not promise you will gain your wish, I will take it into account. We do need as many children as can be provided."

Mahal, Eru, and all the Valar, Aleks thought.

"You have one week."

One…week. Aleks staggered backwards, collapsing onto the mattress. The sound of a lash and subsequent scream through the window caused him to flinch even as it drove home just how real his plight was.

The echnari left as quietly as he'd arrived. Aleks sat staring off into space. One week. And instead of having their heads messed with, he and Daph would be fully aware of whatever happened. No illusion to dull the horror. No illusion to magnify it, either, a part of him tacked on.

Thorin must have made that first one – Muriste? – promise not to mess with their minds as he'd asked. Aleks wondered if the request had been a stupid one. They were trapped. And they were going to be used.

"I do not like these echnari."

Aleks startled. "Bilbo?" Then immediately, "What are you doing here?"

The hobbit flapped hand a hand. "Ssh!" Bilbo looked nervously at the open doorway. "Not so loud."

Aleks grimaced. In a soft voice, "Sorry, man. But what are you doing here?"

"At the moment," Bilbo said, thumbs tucked in his vest pockets, "striving my best to avoid detection. I'd thank you not to betray my presence."

Right.

Bilbo darted another look at the open doorway. "I don't know about you, Master Aleks, but I'm not of a mind to linger in this place. You've been given the run of the valley. Head there. I'll find you." The hobbit vanished as he donned the Ring.

Aleks bobbed his head nervously. Valley. Right.

Deep breath. One thing at a time, Hunt. They'd been in some tight fixes before. Somehow, some way, he'd get them through this.

The alternative was unthinkable.

OoOoOo

Bilbo remained at Aleks's side as the satyr tip-toed out of the bedchamber. Bilbo didn't blame Aleks for his obvious agitation. If anything, Aleks should be more frightened, but then Aleks had not been listening at windows or spying from corners as Bilbo had been doing. Aleks's predicament, and Daphne's, was worse than Aleks likely thought. Whatever he was imagining, Bilbo had seen the reality.

For each of the three days his friend had lain in a healing sleep, Bilbo had tried to formulate a plan to rescue the naiad twins from the echnari, growing ill with every new discovery he made. He could not allow his friends to suffer the fate laid out before them, but he was not altogether certain he could extricate them, not alone at any rate, and he certainly did not trust the local denizens he'd encountered. With all of them susceptible to seduction or beguilement at echnari whim, how could he?

I must find a way to undo this mess.

He wished fervently for Gandalf's counsel. The wizard was certain to have some ideas about what to do. The suffering here could not be right. Surely Eru and the Valar would not allow it to continue? Yes, there were monsters here, and many of them to be quite honest. But there were also their victims, races trapped here against their volition.

He padded along beside Aleks, his hand upon Sting's hilt. Somehow, there must be a way to save his friends and perhaps improve things for the residents of this land. He only hoped he could discover it.

OoOoOo

Daph? Daphne?

Aleks sweat bullets despite the brisk nip to the air. The longer he thought about the echnari's words, the more they sank in like a crocodile's jaws snapping shut. If he'd had any inkling this future had awaited them, he'd have told Caranoran where to stuff his advice. Better he and Daph head wherever it was the dead went than this.

His sister, he suspected, was going to absolutely freak. Daph, you're going to have to forgive me. He'd acted under the assumption the elf had known something – Caranoran had implied it. His temper rekindled. Stupid, interfering elf. Why, he asked himself, had he listened? The thought of having hordes of women shoved at him sickened him. He'd spent too long with the dwarves and their sense of honor to see it as anything other than repulsive. And the idea of his sister having to fend off some random guy made him see red. No way, the satyr side of him growled.

But how in Durin's name was he supposed to avert it? Daph will make them pay. If she healed enough, any loser thinking she'd be an easy mark would be torn apart by the trees and plants. The echnari will know that. They probably knew more about naiads than he and his twin did. After all, they'd had centuries to study them. Play with them. They'll probably make a game of this, too.

Dude, he wished that pessimistic voice would shut up.

Send Bilbo, maybe? Bilbo, they wouldn't be expecting. But Bilbo wouldn't be able to evade detection for long. Not if he was actively protecting Daphne.

Daph? Feeling along the twin bond, he found her yet asleep. Nudge as he might, she didn't rouse. Frowning, he worried on that bone, too, as he descended a curving stairwell, one hand on the filigree banister. Could they have drugged her? Was she not yet healed?

He raked a hand across his head, and his steps stumbled at the reminder. He grumbled under his breath. Kili would laugh this up. So much for besting the younger Durin. Aleks's face was bare as a baby's bum. He'd even lost his eyebrows.

Aleks exited the tower and halted. The black-haired echnari stood apart from the mess and noise of the human captives and their lesser fae guards. Aleks couldn't see the dude do anything, but the results were plain. Random people wandered away from family and friends with bemused or ecstatic expressions. Their loved ones tried to restrain them, but they fought free, climbing over any obstacle to get at whatever it was they saw. Aleks had to turn away, the echnari's words ringing in his ears. Mahal. These people were going to be messed up if they survived what was done to them.

That settled it. I owe you, Thorin. Knowing the truth beat the snot out of the alternative.

He ignored the people who called out as he passed, his steps accelerating and shoulders hunched. He could not help them. He couldn't fathom how he'd be able to even help himself or Daphne. He gave the only gift he had to give: his absence. He'd not stand around and gawk at their degradation.

Why didn't they listen? The lesser fae had warned them, over and over again.

He broke into a lope, and then a run.

At the base of the hill, he looked back. The black tower sat like a freaky despot on his throne, king of all he surveyed. It gave Aleks the willies, so he hurried away. Forest closed in around him, filtering out the sounds of fear and despair. His muscles began to unlock, but then he got a full look at the forest.

Like the sky above, it was trippy. It wasn't Mirkwood with its decaying trees and malevolent denizens, but it sure wasn't a…a sane place, either. The plants… It was as if someone had removed yellow from the color wheel. Everything was an odd mixture of red, blue, and purple. There were no yellows, no greens or browns. Combined with the blue sun overhead, the landscape could hardly have looked more alien if he'd been dumped on the moon Io.

The forest beasts were off, too. As he walked, he observed. Aleks saw small animals typically categorized as prey band together to take down a wolf. If that wasn't enough to raise the hairs on the back of his neck, the successful animals then turned upon one another in a rabid frenzy. He watched, horrified, his feet slow to move on from the sickening sight. He saw a rabbit feasting like a scavenger upon the corpse of a rodent, its white fur marred by splotches of red blood. Evil Easter Bunny, anyone? Repulsion grew. What kind of twisted place was this?

Appa's stories, the bizarre and most outlandish of them, proved real before his eyes. None of the animals was what he'd label mentally healthy. Even the most simpleminded of birds failed to behave normally. Aggressive, all of them, and territorial to the point of actual instances of them tearing into each other with beaks and talons.

Echnari, he blamed without doubt. Aleks flinched at the violence all around him, his satyr's senses smarting. Insect-like prickles ran up and down his skin. How did any satyr live here? How could any satyr remain sane faced with this on a daily basis?

His brow furrowed, and his steps lagged. Hold up. Why did the echnari need him and Daph, anyway? From his parents' tales, there were plenty of naiads who hadn't escaped Faerie. And there had been naiads on Earth, too. He'd not met any, but then again, his parents had been an oddity – a cross-mating that had been scandalous at the time. They'd been virtual pariahs to the rest of naiad society.

Aleks stopped beneath the shelter of a weeping willow, the safest looking tree to his leery eye. The oaks glowed this sinister cerulean, and the pines' ruby-red needles looked a bit too substantial for his comfort. Could they be as dangerous as they looked? I don't want to know. Then right away, a counter-thought: I need to know. If the freaky animals and their violence grated on his nerves like rough grade sandpaper, the plants were probably going to do the same to Daph.

He turned in a circle, taking in his immediate surroundings. Nothing seemed overtly threatening, and to be honest, he doubted anything was. The echnari had plans for him. All those schemes would come crashing down if he or Daph got eaten by some Faerie monster.

Taking a deep breath, he assumed full satyr form to conduct a deeper scan. No way was he needlessly risking Bilbo. Animal signatures lit up all around, but the coast was clear of anything humanoid. "Bilbo?"

The hobbit appeared, grabbing his arm and pulling him from the tree. In a hush, "I would not advise standing there."

Aleks startled. "What? Why not?"

Bilbo waved his hands, gesturing him to quiet while at the same time throwing a wary eye towards the tree in question. "Shh. They respond to noise. And they eat people."

Aleks did a lightning quick double-take. "Say what?"

Bilbo yanked him further from a tree that rustled in response to his shocked exclamation. "Shh! They eat people," the hobbit informed him. Dude, it was no wonder Bilbo had such a death's grip upon Sting. "Animals as well."

Aleks gulped. "All of them?" he whispered, his attention firmly on the trees for any signs of movement.

"I for one am not waiting for evidence either way," Bilbo said with an emphatic shake of the head. "I intend to keep my distance." A pause. "Watch for vines as well."

Uh-huh. He'd do that. Good safety tip. He looked at the hobbit, a surge of gratitude taking him by storm. Bilbo had followed them into a new world, sight unseen. How did he ever repay something like that? He grabbed the hobbit into an abrupt hug. Bilbo squawked at first, then patted his back with awkward affection.

"Thanks." Pulling back, Aleks pretended his eyes weren't bright and watery and cleared his throat. "I should send you away," he said roughly. "I know I should."

"I shouldn't think you would expect me to go," the hobbit said. "I know full well that you, Aleks, would not if our roles were reversed."

No, he wouldn't.

"There is also the slight difficulty in not knowing how to return."

"Slight difficulty?" Aleks repeated, rubbing his face with both palms. Dropping his hands, he continued, "I can't tell you how relieved I am that you're here." A pause. "This is so much worse than Goblin Town."

"The echnari are very dangerous," Bilbo agreed, tousling his mop of curls with one hand. "Notwithstanding the lands themselves. Master Aleks…"

"Aleks," he corrected.

Bilbo lifted serious eyes to him. "You are a member of the Company. The others could not possibly tag along unnoticed, but I'm certain each would have jumped at the chance to do so had they been able."

Possibly. Probably. Ah, who was he kidding? Bilbo was right.

"Bilbo, you took a horrible risk. These echnari can read minds. What if they had detected you? Or worse, what if they find out about you from me?"

"Not to worry," the hobbit told him. "I've been listening. The echnari are not what they once were."

Huh? The idea of a more powerful echnari was enough to make Aleks ill.

"I do not believe they can reach or detect the mind of one they cannot see with their eyes. They can no longer listen to multiple people at once," Bilbo added. "They can affect them, but they cannot delve into their minds so simply nor so deeply. Unless you are thinking of me actively and one of them reads you, I shall remain a secret. This newest limitation is one they are most unhappy about." Bilbo dug through a satchel at his hip, drawing out a cloth-wrapped slab of something bread-like.

"What is this?" Aleks asked as he plunked the piece Bilbo handed him into his mouth.

"I saved it."

"This is Beorn's bread," he identified at once. No mistaking the distinctive taste. Beorn's bread always had that undertone of honey.

"Why, yes. It is."

"You saved Beorn's bread?"

"Did I not just say so?"

But, it had been weeks since they'd seen him. Aleks stared at the hobbit with big eyes as he took another big bite. "Why?"

The hobbit fiddled with the buttons on his vest. "Given past events, I thought it a good idea."

Fair enough. The Company had near starved during their first foray into Mirkwood. "You were saying?"

Bilbo shook out the now-empty piece of cloth and folded it neatly before stowing it away. He handed Aleks a water pouch. "I've learned a bit by listening as the echnari healed the two of you and argued. I've not encountered a more volatile people."

"Not even orcs?" Aleks asked, curious.

Bilbo's lips twisted. "Perhaps orcs," he granted. "From what I've heard, naiads balance the ebb and flow of power here. I do not believe they were aware of this fact until all of the naiads here elected to abandon themselves as trees and stags."

Aleks choked, spewing water. "All of them?" he wheezed.

"All of them," Bilbo affirmed. "From what I've witnessed, life here is not pleasant."

"Understatement," Aleks mumbled with a frown, returning the water pouch to the hobbit.

Bilbo stowed it away. "At any rate, the echnari panicked when they realized Faerie weakened in the absence of naiads. They sent that Muriste in search of replacements in the Earth Realm, unaware of the war there. When she arrived, only a handful of you remained. She grabbed you and your twin, but the rest were slain before it was possible to reach them."

Wait. He and Daph were it? Like, really it?

He pinched the bridge of his nose. How, he wanted to know, had he and Daph ended up on Middle Earth? The echnari hadn't sent them. The wizards had not called them. What did that leave? Does it matter? Uh, yeah. What if they had an unknown benefactor that could rescue them from this? And then what, genius? The echnari found you once. Think they can't do it again?

"So they need us," he said.

"Most desperately so." Bilbo's brown eyes stared up at him intently. "Master Aleks…"

"Aleks."

A roll of the eyes. "Aleks. I will find Daphne."

"You heard what they said? What they intend to force us into?" he asked, unable to meet Bilbo's gaze as he posed his question.

"I heard."

"Bilbo…" How to ask?

"Of course I will protect her. She is my friend," the hobbit said with a note of censure. Then more briskly, "I must be off. We must learn all we can about these Old Ones and their lands. You rest and build your strength."

"Do you think we stand a chance?" he asked quietly.

Bilbo met his gaze head-on, his face tight with worry. "To be truthful, Aleks, I fear escaping may be next to impossible."

Aleks's shoulders slumped as hope piddled down the drain. "Bilbo, if it comes down to it, don't risk yourself." The words were dragged from him. He didn't want to utter them, but the honor and duty Thorin had taught him forced the words from his lips. "Cut and run, dude. Don't waste your life on a lost cause."

Bilbo frowned at him. "I'll be careful."

"No, I mean…"

"I know what you mean, and I won't breathe word of that request to Bofur when we see him again." Bilbo's face lightened with a brief smile as Aleks grimaced. Bofur, Aleks suspected, would have thumped him for telling to hobbit to save himself. Bilbo touched Aleks's forearm. "I wouldn't count myself any kind of man to let Daphne be assaulted."

Dude. Aleks wiped his eyes. "I owe you."

When there was no answer, he craned around. Bilbo had gone.

One week. Aleks decided not to waste one minute of his reprieve. Time to measure out the boundary of his cage.

OoOoOo

I woke to my brother's cajoling voice. Paging Daphne. Come in, Daphne. A measured silence, the feeling of inspection through the twin bond. A warm breeze of a smile laced with something nervous. There she is!

Ha-ha. My lips twitched. Wait. I was hearing Aleks. Glee surged through me. I was healed! I was—

Memory returned, and the glee melted like ice cream in a broiler. I shot straight up, finding myself sprawled on a blanket of baby blue grass in the center of a perfectly circular glade. All around, bizarre trees filled the horizon. They sky was purple and… Huh? My chin lifted, and I stared upward. Why was the sky purple? Then downward. Why was the grass blue?

A kernel of icy fear swelled in my gut like a cancerous tumor. I knew of only three places I could be: Earth, Middle Earth, and Faerie. This was decidedly not Earth-like, and last time I'd checked, Middle Earth did not have blue grass. But I couldn't be in Faerie. It made no sense. Yet the sky was purple. Faerie had a purple sky, or so Appa's tales had said. I tried to tell myself I was being silly. One did not simply wake up…on…a new…world. I went from zero to maxing out my terror quotient in about three seconds flat.

It's not as bad as it seems, Aleks rushed to say.

The sky is purple, Aleks, I shrilled, stuck on that fact. I looked down at my body and found myself draped in this gauzy emerald robe that puddled around my ankles. I fumbled for the familiar comfort of Bofur's bracelet and touched bare skin. No bracelet. I stared, loss adding to my meltdown. I couldn't have lost it. I couldn't…

I ditched that, staring at the sky, the grass, my robe, and the trees. My mind began to tabulate the evidence. I'd been shot three times with metal-tipped arrows. I'd bled. A lot. I remembered the sensation of a hot poker eating its way deeper and deeper into my body. Yet, here I was, free from pain. I tugged on the robe's sash and searched out my hip and side. No scars. I gasped for breath, beginning to hyperventilate. This could not be happening. None of this was possible. We'd been in Erebor!

Please tell me we died, I said with zero amusement whatsoever. Regret bonged from my twin like the tolling of a massive bell. Answer enough.

WE'RE IN FAERIE! I bellowed down the link, on my feet and running before my brain caught up. Where I was going, I had no idea, only that I had to run. Miscolored trees flashed by as my bare feet carried me past them.

Guilt flared from my twin. Daph, calm down.

Uh. No. "Daph" was gone for the moment. Fear alone drove me, and I was only too happy to let it have the driver's seat. This chick was checking out, thank you very much.

Daph, stop.

No.

You have to stop!

No, I really didn't. Slap, slap, slap, my feet flew. I knew what dwelled in Faerie. Who was to say this was even Aleks?

Will you quit it? You are not making sense! Worried impatience. Look, the trees are dangerous. You need to calm down so…

Wham! I slammed full-tilt into something. The breath whooshed from my lungs as I fell to my rump, staring with big eyes at…at… Nothing? Moisture prodded one hand to my throbbing nose to find it wet with blood. I sat, nose drip, drip, dripping, while my gaze sharpened, focusing beyond where I'd collided with thin air. My ragged breaths hitched.

Slowly. Back away, Aleks said.

Uh, yeah. I got that. I inched backwards, staying low to the ground, eyes glued to the scene. A handful of humans danced around like mad, twirling and twirling as laughter spilled from their lips. Their clothes were ragged and torn, and their lips looked crusty from lack of water, yet none of them seemed to notice. An Old One was either playing with them or had discarded them, leaving them in this helpless state. Movement drew my eyes into the trees' canopies.

Mahal, Aleks whispered.

Scuttling through the trees was one of the famed predators of Faerie: the arachne. The Greeks had thought there was only one. Those of us who had originated from here knew better. Unlike run-of-the-mill spiders, the half-spider, half-woman creatures hunted in packs. As, I trembled to see, they were doing now. With a silent signal, the females leaped from the trees and tackled the humans. Only then did the people wake up. I shuddered as the screaming began.

Daph, stay still, Aleks cautioned as a handful of the arachne broke away to scout the surrounding area.

Nope, couldn't do that. My legs kept shoving me away as my eyes watched each person get trundled up like Frodo with Shelob, the victims shrieking until silken threads bound their mouths. They were not dead, a detached part of me whimpered. But I bet they wished they were.

A tree burst into movement from the arachne's rear, lashing at one of the spider-women with vines and branches. A big, gaping maw appeared where only smooth bark had been, and pin prickles of horrified disbelief broke out upon my skin. The other females ignored the struggle as their fellow was slowly overcome and consumed, intent upon their prey.

One of the nearer females spotted me. Her crimson eyes ignited, and she leaped at me, her eight legs boosting her like a catapult.

Mahal, Aleks breathed. Then, Run. Now.

Smack. The arachne collided with the same invisible something I had. The air rippled like a curtain, absorbing the impact. Scrabble for purchase though she did, it shed her like a bad habit, dumping her on the ground. Candy-red eyes narrowed as they stared through the invisible wall at me. The arachne's long, bony face undulated first one way, then the other. Her fist smacked the invisible whatsit, again causing that barely perceptible ripple. With a frown, her lean fingers teased across its surface but found no holes.

She abandoned me as a lost cause with a sudden burst of speed, rejoining her sisters. The lot of them hoisted their prizes overhead and scuttled up the trees. They never looked for their lost member, and the tree that had consumed her looked like a normal tree again. In seconds, the forest appeared empty, the arachne and their victims gone. Silence.

I jumped to my feet and ran the way I'd come. Terror spiraled through me, robbing me of all thought but one: to flee. Aleks said things to me, but the words were no more than a soundtrack underscoring my petrified flight. Faerie. I ran and ran, dodging around trees and scrambling over roots that rose up before me. Branches and twigs snatched at my hair, tearing strands loose and fueling my terrified state. Aleks attempted to push calm at me through our link, but his efforts were doomed to fail given the bonfire of panic roaring through me. He stood not a chance of ousting me from my crazed condition.

That is until I tripped and rolled down a hill, splatting into the pool of mud at the bottom.

STOP! Aleks's command was softened by the concern flooding down the link from him. Daph, I'm here, okay? You aren't alone. Please don't do this. We're in Faerie. Thorin made them promise, Daph. They can't mess with our minds without breaking oath.

I pushed my chest and face free of the mud with trembling arms, each breath a wheezing, freaked-out inhale. My heart hurled itself against my breastbone with painful intensity. We were in Faerie. We were in Faerie. My eyes flew, unable to settle anywhere for fear of missing some new threat. Thorin made them promise. Thorin made… He sent us here? The absolute feeling of betrayal had me feeling as soppy as the mud.

He let Marcus take us. On my say-so, Aleks said softly, radiating guilt.

On his say-so. I collapsed onto my butt, mud oozing between my toes. With arms locked around my knees, I rocked back and forth, trying to absorb what I was told.

Daph? Don't cut me off. A trace of fear, hastily stifled.

I should have been furious, but I was too busy hyperventilating, each breath a minute gasp. We were in Faerie. There was no escape.

With tentative care, my twin asked me, How much do you love Bofur?

What kind of question was that?

Will you do the most difficult thing you've ever done? For him?

I closed my eyes, my forehead resting upon my muddy knees. My toymaker's face surfaced before my mind's eye. There was little I wouldn't attempt for him, but I didn't quite get where Aleks was going with this. There was no escape from Faerie. Not intact, anyway.

Can you hold it together? For him? Aleks pressed.

Could I? What was the point?

Bilbo's here.

My head popped up. Repeat that? Because I could have sworn he'd said…

Bilbo's here.

Bilbo. Here. Emotions surged – hope, alarm, dismay. What?

Wry amusement. I think he decided that since we stomped all over the time-line, he could, too.

Merciful heavens. Aleks, what happened?

Do you want the long version or the Cliff's Notes?