The Trickster woke up to someone knocking at the door. She threw off the covers, coughing a little at the dust, and went to let them in.

"Magnus, is it true that you let your sibling--oh, are you one of his witches? Is Magnus around?"

The Trickster blinked sleepily at the tall, skinny man in front of her. She opened her mouth to agree with them, but then decided she should probably tell the truth.

"Sorry, Ire, it's me," she said, giving him a wave.

"Why are you here?"

"I'm hiding from my cult."

"Why don't you just let them have you?"

"Uh... because they are mean? And honestly, I don't think they even really like me."

"Well, that's an understandable position for them to take, really, isn't it?"

"Whatever, Ire."

"But honestly, they're causing a lot of trouble for everyone, especially Magnus, from what I've heard. And you're causing chaos and trouble as well, even though you're dead. So if you went to them, you'd be less of a problem, and they'd be less of a problem, so it would all work out, see?"

"I have heard this argument before, yes."

"So do you have any counter?"

"I don't want to," the Trickster said. "As I said, they're mean."

"Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do," Ire said. "You were young when you died, but you were an adult, you should know that."

"You think I just do what I want? That I want to--"

"Ire, stop arguing with her," a voice said from behind him.

"You talk some sense into her," Ire said, and walked away.

"Thanks, Axel," the Trickster said to the shorter man who had come up the path.

"Did you want to talk about it?" Axel asked.

"Not before breakfast," the Trickster said.

"Come on, then," Axel said, and the Trickster followed him out the door.

Axel's house was filled with gadgets, hooks and shelves lining the wall all filled with various creations. One wall had an oven and a complex mess of tubes, from which Axel poured two beverages.

"What's this?" the Trickster asked.

"Coffee. The people on the mountain grow it, it's a breakfast drink. It's like if tea tasted like chickory."

"Not bad," the Trickster said after sipping it, and Axel laughed.

"You liar, you always did hate bitter things. Try it with milk, it gets rid of the bitter flavour."

Breakfast was porridge with cream and honey, and after that Axel let the Trickster sit in comfortable silence for a while before the inevitable interrogation.

"So, Trilan says that your cult isn't very nice to you."

"Well, they're nice if I do what they want, I guess."

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"I heard something about candles?"

"Turns out people have different opinions when they are me than when they're outside making decisions about me, and the cultists have a restricted budget."

"I have always wondered," Axel said, "what is it like, being... like you are?"

"Eat my heart and find out," the Trickster said, and Axel laughed.

"No, thank you!"

"I don't feel dead," the Trickster said. "People say I am, but I don't feel like I am."

"What does being dead feel like, anyway?"

"I don't know. But I wouldn't imagine this. I'm just a person. I--I don't know, it's been a while, and I think I do feel different, but I think that's just because I'm a human now. I'm not dead, I'm just different, and I don't know why people keep on insisting I am dead."

"It's because you did die, you can't say what you were didn't die," Axel said. "And because you're still here it's hard to mourn you, and so they never got through it. They're still at the funeral and haven't arrived at the wake. Which is a shame, because there's a lot more about your life to celebrate than normal, since 'wake' is literal in your case."

"I always thought they blamed me because I was the only one who has woken up."

"Oh, of course there's that as well," Axel said, shrugging. "But it isn't as if you murdered anyone yourself, so that's hardly fair is it?"

"I killed--"

"You didn't kill your mum," Axel said. "She died having you because there was only a bunch of kids around to help when things went wrong, and that was hardly your fault, was it?"

"Thanks, Axel."

"Stay for lunch, Cloe will take a while to find you if you stay here."

"Is she mad at me?"

"Something about a village?"

"Oh. My marriage."

"Your--ha! Tell me all."

Axel was right, and Cloe didn't find them all morning. It wasn't even Cloe who found them in the end, but Eran, Cloe's twin. He peeked into Axel's house in the way he always did, hunched over the doorway like he felt like he was too tall. He was actually shorter than Ire, but he did look taller due to his muscular frame.

"Won't you come in, Eran?" Axel asked politely.

"No, no," Eran said awkwardly. "How are you, Axel?"

"I'm well; yourself?"

"Oh, fine," Eran said. "Is this the kid?"

"Yes," the Trickster said. Eran turned awkwardly to her.

"Hello."

"Hello, Eran."

"Trilan said your host's name is Cassie now?"

"That's right, Cassie Strathfield."

"Okay," Eran said. "...Good."

There was an awkward pause, and then he left.

"He'll go right to Cloe," Axel said.

"Yeah, but I suppose I have to see her sooner or later."

"Mm," Axel said, non-committal, and put on a kettle of water to boil.

Cloe arrived ten minutes later, and they could hear her angrily stomping up the path before they saw her.

"How dare you come back here," she said to the Trickster.

"Cloe, perfect timing," Axel said. "Tea, coffee?"

"Not in the mood, Axel."

"Neither am I for you bursting into my house and being rude to my guest," Axel said mildly, pouring the Trickster a cup of tea.

"You shouldn't invite that dead thing into your home," Cloe said, and Axel stiffened.

"Are you trying to dictate your house rules to me, like I'm some kind of human under your wing?"

"They make a mockery of the whole thing!"

"Cloe," Axel said, his voice quiet but hard, "what do you think keeps all your pretty little houses standing, love and family alone? Do not test me."

The Trickster held her breath, as the two faced each other, war in their eyes.

"Oh, you're all here," Trilan said from the door. "Good, I was wondering if I was ever going to find you. Magnus has asked us all to meet at the gates."

"I don't want to speak to Magnus," Cloe said, looking away from Axel.

"He says it's important," Trilan said. "You'll want to be there, he said."

Cloe grumbled, but went to the door. The others did too, the Trickster burning the roof of her mouth trying to finish off her cup of tea.

They walked to the gates of the Glade in silence, which first felt comfortable to the Trickster, keeping pace with Axel, but slowly became more awkward as the silence went on. Cloe walked in front of them, her long hair swaying loose down to her waist. The Trickster didn't know how she dealt with it; hers had got overly tangled at that length when she was living in a cell with the cultists, and she hadn't been wandering around with more potential to get it caught in things. Cassie's was a far more manageable shoulder-length, which was what Magnus had always cut it to anyway when they were growing up.

"What does Magnus want with us, Trilan?" Axel asked.

"I don't know. He said he wanted a group meeting, and to meet him by the gates."

"Maybe he wants our help to kick her out," Cloe suggested, pointing a thumb back at the Trickster.

"Oh," Trilan said, his steps faltering. "Maybe we should...?"

"He helped me get here, though," the Trickster said. "He could have just let the cultists get me on my way here."

"Alright, then," Trilan said, but Axel still looked worried as they moved on.

It didn't take long to reach the gates. The Trickster saw Magnus standing with Ire and Eran by the stone archway, and waved as their group approached.

"Thank you for coming," Magnus said.

"So, now we're all here, why..." The Trickster trailed off. Beyond the gates stood an army's worth of cultists.