"Well – look – maybe it is another enchantress testing you, or maybe it isn't – "

As he spoke, the old woman drew a vicious looking dagger from her ragged robe.

" – or maybe it is – "

She swiped at Evans with her dagger as Percy jumped away from her like a scalded cat. Evans dodged her blow, hefted his sword in a flash of steel, and then, inexplicably, looked at Percy, rather than at the crone who tried to slash at him again with her dagger. He evaded her easily. His eyes wandered to Percy once more, and something in them changed. Percy, standing bewildered just two feet away, guessed the words that were now tangled in Evans' mind. "One should never be too certain". Somehow he was already succeeding in making Evans falter and doubt himself. He was fulfilling the role those faceless robes from the palace had given him, even as he tried very hard not to. He wished himself a mere pebble on a path, easy to kick away and forget.

"Fucking get her!" they heard Valeria's voice behind them, still trapped in vines and branches.

Evans spun his sword, ready to use it, but a sliver of hesitation distorted his ever-smooth gestures. His aggressive stance shifted to a more defensive posture as he eluded another furious attempt from the crone and her dagger. He slid behind her to grab her arms and immobilize her.

"Percy, disarm her!" he shouted as he struggled to restrain her, her limbs thrashing and flailing in a brutal frenzy.

Percy rushed forward and slapped the dagger out of the old woman's bony hand, sending it flying off. It landed on a lost patch of grass with an underwhelming wet thud.

"Madam" Evans wavered as she delivered an abundance of kicks, "you must excuse us, but we thought you might – "

His voice choked in his throat as Myrtle barrelled into him fist first, punching him with a resounding smack. He stumbled to the side, though he still held his grip on the old woman, looking far more stunned than injured.

"Myrtle!" Percy gasped, grabbing her arm to pull her back.

"Bloody hell, what are you doing! Attacking a sweet old lady like that?" she yelled. "I knew I shouldn't have just gone off to ride with complete strangers, who of course turn out to be – "

Myrtle staggered backwards and tripped on her own feet as Valeria charged at her and punched her in turn.

"How dare you punch him!" she raged, fists raised.

Percy looked about him helplessly, wondering which fight to break up, and whether such a course of action carried a high chance of breaking him too in the process.

"How dare I?!" Myrtle bellowed, her hand fumbling about her bruised face to ensure she still owned a nose. "These nutters just start attacking this poor woman like they mean to do her in, and – "

The clearing around them shivered, from blade of grass to canopy leaf. Percy stepped back instinctively. The transformation he saw now had none of the glinting and glistering magnificence of the one he had witnessed before on a forest road. There were no jewelled sparks, no bursts of dawn light, no crystalline sounds tinkling at the air: there was just a horrible crack that stretched and stretched as the old woman's body distorted into an impossible tortured shape, split in the middle, and ripped itself in two. Each half melted to a puddle under their astounded eyes, and from each puddle rose two women. They were not old, not young, beautiful as the other fae in the woods had been, but with a belligerent twist to their features that made them something else entirely.

Just as he had done before, Evans fell on one knee in front of the two sorceresses, lowering his head in deference.

"Well done, sir knight" the one on the left started, addressing him as she adjusted her storm-grey robes. "You have done an... adequate job of obeying authority."

"And an equally satisfactory job of defying authority" the one on the right joined in, stretching out her arms as though to readjust to her new shape.

"Were you both... in that old woman's body?" Percy babbled, looking at the puddles that weren't there anymore.

"Awful shared working spaces" the grey-robbed fae muttered under her breath.

"You were the one who suggested it in the first place" the one on the right muttered back.

"I... please forgive me, noble fae, but I am a little confused" Evans said, looking from one to the other. It was a far cry from the scripted self-assurance Percy had heard in him in their encounter with the first sorceress.

The pair shared a glance, slightly fuddled by his befuddlement.

"Well" started one, "I came here to test you on your ability to obey authority, as you will need to be dutiful and abiding in your quests."

"And I" said the other, with a rather disdainful look, "do not entirely agree with my colleague's point of view, and therefore came here to test you on your ability to defy authority, as I believe it will be equally important in your journey."

"I wouldn't say equally important..."

"You wouldn't because you've always been a teacher's pet who loves following rules."

Myrtle, who had landed arse-first on the ground after Valeria's punch, was slowly backing away from the two fae while repeating a low string of muttered, incomprehensible words. Evans kept himself in his prostrated position. Valeria was a dangerous inch away from merely shrugging her shoulders.

"Wait, what did this have to do with obeying or defying authority?" Percy asked.

The first fae opened her mouth, but barely looked at him as she spoke, glancing instead at a tree, or a rock, or a speck of dirt, as though his voice had been nothing more than the buzzing of a fly, and she thought herself a fool for even responding.

"A sorceress, just like us, instructed the chosen one that he should cut down any old women on his path who asked him for the time of day. And he seemed rather bent on doing that, at least when he first charged at us."

"And then he seemed rather hesitant, which as far as I'm concerned is enough to pass my test."

"You never did have very high standards."

"You never did have a life beyond your work."

Myrtle remained with her arse on the damp earth, and Percy thought she had the right idea. It was exhausting to even be in the vicinity of the two bickering fae.

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"It... seems a little counterproductive to come here to test him on those two things at the same time" he said, cutting into their squabbling.

"Seems a little counterproductive to criticise the methods of two sorceresses who could smite you where you stand and make confetti out of you" one of them hissed.

"Don't mind him" Evans intervened, standing at last. "Your dealings are with me."

Percy gawked at Evans, with a frown tightening his brow. Somehow, Evans had managed to summon back to him the attention of the pair of fae, whilst steering clear of any displays of haughtiness. Percy would have fallen prone to admiration, had he not been so busy resenting how easily Evans dismissed him from the conversation, dusting him off with the mildest of annoyed looks.

"I... Yes, of course" the first fae said, clearing her throat with a little infuriating noise. "We grant you our blessing on your quest, and hope it will lead you down a glorious road."

"That little speech wasn't too bad, for someone who's stopped trying."

"Why must you always undermine me?"

"I don't! You must get better at accepting criticism."

"That's it, our arrangement is over! Go shove yourself in an old woman's body with the first delusional fae who'll take you."

"See what I mean? You'll never get better if you run away at the first difficulty! All I'm saying is, not everyone thinks you're brilliant – "

Myrtle had finally hoisted herself up from the grass, sporting a superb wet patch on the back of her trousers.

"Excuse me" she started, addressing the fae, "would you say you have complaints with your working conditions?"

But the two enchantresses were too tangled in their bickering to hear her. It dragged on for three never-ending seconds until one of them, halfway through the words "team-spirit" and "sabotage", snapped her fingers, and sent them both disappearing in ragged grey smoke.

The four of them stood still and silent in the clearing. Eventually, something in the air shifted. It was Myrtle crossing her arms.

"So will any of you be so kind as to explain to me what happened?"

That night brought rain.

They huddled together in a shallow cave that Valeria uncovered, just as thick clouds spewed out the first lashings of a storm. It had been staging itself in the skies as they rode, and now unleashed its spectacle with thundering enthusiasm. Their campfire sputtered and wavered for an eternity, shuddering at the storm that roared beyond the cave, but, after some coaxing, it grew enough to flood them with easing warmth.

"So where's the inn?" Percy asked as he held his hands up to the flames, with his coat draped over his shoulders.

After the incident in the clearing, he had been sullen and sulking all afternoon. His voice had a cynical tang to it that Valeria was quick to pick up.

"The inn? What do you mean?"

"Well, the first days I rode with you, we came across a fae in the woods who came to test Evans. Then there was a storm, and then there was an inn. So I'm just waiting for the inn part of all that, because frankly it would be really nice right now."

Evans gave a little chuckle, but Valeria and Myrtle remained quiet as they focused on getting warm. They had not spoken of the punches delivered that day, but it was plain to see that it had strengthened their respect for each other. Though she would never admit it to herself, Valeria rather admired the fact that Myrtle had dared to punch the chosen one; and though she would never admit it to anyone, Myrtle was rather proud of the fact that she had taken Valeria's punch without crying for a straight ten minutes afterwards. She had apologized to Evans after having the situation explained to her, and Evans had apologized to her for not having explained the situation earlier, and, when all was tallied up, more apologies were delivered than punches, which was the best that could be hoped for most days.

"Either way" Myrtle had a long, rested sigh, "I think Percy was right to point out that what they were doing made no sense. They can't test you for obedience and for standing up to authority at the same time."

"It did look like they weren't on the same page" Evans smiled.

"They weren't on the same book."

"It doesn't matter. It's their privilege to test him when and how they please" Valeria stated with her usual bluntness.

"Has it been happening for long?" Myrtle asked, turning to Evans.

"Not that long."

"And will it keep happening for long?"

He sent a glance towards Valeria, who was busy staring down the fire.

"To be honest, I don't rightly know" he said with a soft voice and a softer smile.

"Well, if it does go on for long, could we at least get a tent?" Percy said. "Maybe we could borrow one from those palace people who follow you around?"

He felt exhausted, his whole body ground and grated by days' worth of riding and unchallenged exposure to wind and rain. A tent would at least trick him into thinking that his comfort was held in a higher regard than what it seemed to be.

Evans chuckled and turned to Valeria.

"Valeria, what was it that the royal seers told us when they sent us off without a tent? 'The stars will watch over you easier if you sleep outside'?"

"Yeah, well, the stars won't spoon-feed you cough syrup when you catch your death" she grumbled. "Though they might show up for your funeral and make it scenic. That will be nice of them."

"You really don't have any taste for the poetic, do you?" Percy grinned.

"The day I develop one, kill me, bury me and write me an epitaph. That way you'll have the last laugh."

She dozed off soon after. Myrtle, who sat next to her with her back propped against the cold stone – just as they had first seen her in the sleeping castle – soon allowed her head to droop and rest on Valeria's shoulder.

Percy and Evans were left behind, awake. Percy drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He still resented Evans' words from that afternoon, feeling them pin and prick at him, and he chose to wait it out in silence.

"You always sit like that" he heard Evans say after a few motionless minutes. "Like you're trying to catch yourself all the time."

"Who says I'm not" Percy mumbled.

"What's wrong? You've been scowling at me all day."

"Not all day. Not this morning."

"Something I did this afternoon, then."

Percy turned at last to look at him. He was mirroring Percy's position, as far as his sturdier build allowed. There was a gentleness to the slight tilt of his body and the swaying of his smile that always caught Percy off guard. It happened again.

"'Don't mind him?' Did you really need to say that?" Percy murmured.

"Really, that's why?" Evans ran his hands over his face, rubbing away his smile. "Percy, these are trigger-happy fae. They'll curse you for wronging their least favourite, twice removed cousin, or for complimenting their least favourite, twice removed cousin, depending on their mood. If I had said 'forgive him', I would be implying you did something wrong, and that might very well be enough of a reason for them to curse you. But if I say 'don't mind him', I make you insignificant. And they might curse anything from the annoying to the abhorrent, but they'll have nothing to do at all with the insignificant. Trust me."

Percy burrowed his head into tucked up knees, leaving only his eyes peaking out from his crossed arms to stare at Evans as he spoke. He said nothing yet. He already knew that Evans, when left in silence, would go and meander into his woods full of words.

"I apologize if it felt like I was dismissing you, that was not my intention. Well, I was trying to make it look like that to the fae, but I wasn't truly... Not after how you helped me pass their test."

Evan's voice never trailed off. Not really; there was always a trail to follow in those woods of his. But Percy wasn't quite sure of where it led to now.

"Helped you? How?"

"With what you told me some days ago. About not being too certain. If I hadn't heard that, I'm... not sure I would have hesitated today. I would have passed one of the tests, but not both."

Percy looked at him, with confusion muddling his features.

"So it was... a good thing that I made you hesitate?"

Evans nodded. They fell back into silence and allowed the fire to chatter for a little while.

"But, please... don't say that when you're summoned again to report how I'm faring" Evans murmured.

Percy' eyes narrowed as he tried to recall the man who had spoken to him in the striped red tent. It was a strange task, attempting to remember a face when its outline, somehow, had barely grazed his mind.

"When Myrtle asked you if this would go on for long..." Percy began, carefully teasing the words past his lips, so as to not scare himself out of speaking them. "I was wondering the same. When does it end? When do you settle down on a farm, raise some lettuces and plant some chickens, or whatever it is people in your situation say?"

"People in my situation?" Evans smirked. "That's not up to me to decide. They'll tell me."

"Who will tell you? That man?"

Evans folded his body into a hunch that did not in the least suit him. He quietly turned his eyes away from Percy. Percy would have given much to ransom them back.

"I'd rather not talk about that before I go to sleep" he murmured. There was no resentment in his voice, no exasperation; just a murmur.

Percy nodded and watched as Evans curled up with his blanket, laid his head on Valeria's free shoulder, and, with a simplicity that was altogether his, fell asleep.