“On our third venture, Thales and I traveled down into the heart of the Outerlands and tamed the Vitterbeast. It had been troubling the citizens of the Hollows for months, you see, sneaking in at night and wreaking havoc with the elderfly merchants, so we loaded up on supplies and headed down the Old Road to slay it. Now—”

Elvie had been going on like this for much of the last hour. She sat on Walter’s shoulder, sharing un-requested stories of her exploits with Thales. They came in a deluge, one after another, stopping only long enough for Elvie to question one of the locals about the location of the seal and how they might get through it. Nobody had any idea, but everyone seemed happy to see Elvie and thank her for something she and Thales had done in the last few years. Apparently, they were quite the power couple.

Marigold wanted to scream.

They turned a corner and finally entered the Slaughter Market, which had far less slaughter than Marigold recalled. It was mostly butchers selling suspect meat, but even this was too much for Walter, who looked as if he might be sick at the sight of a few hundred carcasses hanging from the ceiling of the cavern.

An elderly god smiled and waved as they walked past her stall. “Hello, Elvie. Good to see you. Please give my best to Thales.”

“Of course, I will,” Elvie said. “That’s Myra. She’s a gentle soul. Several years ago, her home was collapsing, and she came to Thales in distress. Of course, we offered to help her for free, and—”

“Looks like we’re at the Slaughter Market,” Marigold said. “Now, where were the gods that were going to help us pass the seal?”

“Ah, yes, quite right. You’re as direct as Thales said. He’s always praised your ability to cut through to the heart of any matter. It’s truly an admirable quality.”

“The seal,” Marigold said.

Elvie stood up and craned her neck from side to side. “See that alcove there?”

Marigold looked through the masses of creatures shopping for expired meat and saw a few flimsy rags covering the entrance to a narrow corridor.

“There are creatures there that may know the way down. I will question them alone if you don’t mind. The guesteaters don’t like strangers very much.”

Walter walked over to the entrance, bent over, and lowered his arm down to the ground. Elvie scampered her way down and landed with a flourish. “Thank you, kind demon. I’ll only be a moment.” She pushed her way under the curtain and disappeared.

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Walter looked over at Marigold. “She’s a bit much,” he said.

“You think so, too?”

“I don’t think she’s stopped talking about questing once since we left the smithy.”

“Exactly.”

“And she’s a little too nice for my liking.”

Marigold’s eyes lit up. “Isn’t she? She’s completely fake. Why would Thales marry her?”

“The size difference alone causes one to wonder.”

Marigold and Walter both began to laugh.

“About Thales,” Walter said.

“Yes?”

“Um, so he was . . .”

“What?”

“I mean, the two of you . . .”

“Uh-huh?”

“Yes, well. . . nothing. Perhaps it’s not important.”

Marigold had trouble understanding the demon. He was strange, clearly in possession of a great deal of power, but he had no desire to use it. He was awkward and timid in a way that put even Maxwell to shame. Still, he had been useful so far, and she was glad he had reconsidered his earlier cowardice.

“What was that back there with Thales?” she asked.

Walter looked suddenly embarrassed. He paused and weighed his reply before speaking. “It’s hard for younger creatures like you to understand. I know that Thales is not responsible for the war, but he reminds me of what happened. All of this does,” he said, motioning to the market.

“I’ve heard how difficult it was.”

“You’ve heard, but you can’t know. I’ve worked very hard to deal with the memories of it and being down here is not helping.”

“I’m sorry,” Marigold said.

“It’s not your fault but thank you. I’ll be happy when we can leave.”

“Do you remember anything about where we go from here?

“Very little. I was a child the last time I was here, and of course, the Hollows didn’t exist back then. There was a single path that led down through the Forest and then came to a stop at the labyrinth.”

“A labyrinth?” Marigold said. “What do you mean a labyrinth?”

“Just that. It’s a kind of last challenge before the Cauldron, meant to see if we’re worthy.”

Marigold was exasperated at this revelation. Why had nothing in her father’s books mentioned a labyrinth? Why was Walter only bringing this up now?

“And what about the seal?” she asked, trying to remain composed.

“I’m not sure,” Walter said. “That one is new.”

At last, Elvie returned with a victorious look on her face. She was carrying a folded-up piece of paper that looked comically large in her little hands.

“Well?” Marigold said.

“It’s quite close. Just below us, in fact. They drew me a map and even included some instructions.” She held out the paper.

Marigold took it and looked at the document for a moment. It outlined a complicated path through the Hollows and down into the labyrinth Walter had just mentioned. Elvie was right. It wasn’t far from where they were at all.

“Thank you,” Marigold said.

“Not a problem, the guesteaters owe me a favor, you see last year on the Feast of Pylor—”

“We better go get Maxwell,” Marigold said.

She marched through the Slaughter Market at a brisk pace, leaving Walter to pick up the gerbil. Elvie continued to talk, but Marigold walked far enough ahead that the distance and crowds drowned out her incessant squeaks.