Dorian looked around after pulling on the reins to stop the horses. He expected to be just outside of the palace of the Spring Court, but the party appeared to be in a small town several miles away from the royal grounds. The quaint and dirty area was a stark contrast to the bright and clean home of the Queen of Spring, and the culture shock suddenly made him feel exhausted. With a quick glance, Dorian could see a few houses, some shops, and a blacksmith, with farmers’ fields in the distance. A nondescript, elven hovel is how he would normally characterize it.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Dorian moaned. “Cahn, you said you could get us to the palace from the normal spot.”

“I said I could try to get you near the palace,” Cahn replied, clearly irritated that his boss had once again glazed over important details just because it had come from him. “I normally do.”

Dorian glared at him.

“Uh, sir,” he corrected himself, brushing his black hair from his eyes.

His master gave him a side-eyed glance, before looking back towards the capitol city in the distance. “It’ll take us at least a day to get there from here. That is, if the faewild magic or the locals don't screw with us as we go through the forest. Which they most likely will. Damn it.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Cahn admitted. “While I can open a portal, sometimes the fae plane doesn’t match up with our own. It likes to shift around…thankfully not much this time.”

Dorian sneered. “I’d bet a gold Rad that the princess messed with the ley lines just to throw us off. I can tell she doesn’t like me, she must be getting that attitude from her mother.”

“It’s a possibility,” Cahn mused. “But while the queen doesn’t like humans in her realm, we’ve been polite to them…at least, I think we have. I don’t know the Spring Court customs very well.”

Before being recruited by Dorian, Cahn had often taken vacations with his family to the various fae realms; summer and winter (to an extent) being his childrens’ favorites. Alternating between building snowmen in Winter and pleasant days swimming in Summer had given his children unforgettable memories.

“No use arguing over whether or not we’ve pissed these people off,” Hjerim grunted at Cahn, his arm around the concealed Bell. “Knights procedure dictates we need to find a local guide.”

Cahn had been leaning against the side of the wagon for support, and sighed through his nose. “Very well,” he replied, before staggering away from the wagon.

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While Cahn was away, talking with the elves and other fae creatures nearby, Dorian sat in the wagon’s driver seat and ate an apple. Crunching on the sweet fruit’s white innards, he attempted to look around as much as he could without moving his head, to give an illusion of control. The last thing he needed was some elf con artist zeroing in on what he thought was a lost tourist.

Dorian scowled. He was a lost tourist.

He had finished the apple and Hjerim had just started to doze off, now that the wagon hadn’t moved for a while, when Cahn returned with an elf in tow. Dorian narrowed his eyes at the figure, then looked at Cahn, eyebrow raised.

“I’ll have to translate,” Cahn answered without being asked, his hands raised in a “this is the best I could do” position. “But he knows the way to the palace.”

“He says he does, I’m sure,” Hjerim grunted as he sat up in the back of the cart. “I guess we’ll have to see. How much is he costing us?”

Cahn’s irritation grew slightly. “His name is Bat and just a gold piece,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. He liked the fae realm, and didn’t want to give himself a bad reputation with poor manners.

“Pay him,” Dorian said with a dismissive tone.

Hjerim took a gold Rad out of his traveling purse, holding it with two hands. He channeled glory from his Object and swiftly snapped the coin in half with his Strength. He tossed one of the halves to Bat.

“Half now, half when we get there,” Hjerim sneered.

Cahn signed, and translated. Bat didn’t seem very happy, but looked over his half of the gold coin, tucked it into his pocket, and nodded while speaking Elvish.

“What did he say?” Dorian demanded. He didn’t really care, but thought he needed to make sure that the elf knew who was in charge.

“He said that ‘it’s a long journey’, but that he will do his best,” Cahn replied. He conveniently left out the mocking expletives making fun of Dorian’s facial burns and how he hoped the “one in the cart is devoured by forest beasts”. The argument wouldn’t have turned out well for anyone involved.

Dorian had a feeling that he wasn’t being told the whole story, but was hesitant to start any issue with this elf, as he was in a village surrounded by them. They initially all stared at the party when they came through the portal, but for the most part had continued on with their day shortly after they realized no one in the wagon was going to attack. Dorian wished to stay as inconspicuous as possible.

Deceiving this many humans in his own realm wouldn’t normally pose a problem, but he had found out years ago that the magic of the fae realm had a way of altering or shifting the glory flow from Destined Objects, making it too unpredictable for his taste. It’s one of the reasons why he decided to hide the Bell here, since it would be harder to detect for anyone looking for it, but being less powerful in this realm meant that he never wanted to stay for long; even if it did temporarily provide relief from winter weather.

After procuring some food and water from village vendors with the help of Bat, the three humans and the elf commenced their ride to the Spring Court, and entered the forest standing in their way.