And then Silver was back in the forest, standing on the uneven dirt path, with trees, moss, and ferns all around, wildlife filling the air with small sounds.

He smiled at a sparrow cocking its head curiously at him, and he stood very still as it pecked at his sodden sneaker lace.

“I don’t think that’ll work for your nest, little guy,” he murmured.

The sparrow hopped away to find something else.

Looking around, Silver spotted Fiona sitting on a stump, arms crossed, toes tapping, a glare on her face.

“Are you guys back, then?” she demanded.

“Yes. My apologies,” said Devon.

“You can’t just go haring off to who knows where with no warning,” she said.

“When,” said Silver.

“Just now!” Fiona stood up. “I was hiking along, minding my own business, and suddenly I realized there was no one behind me!”

“No, I mean, we hared off to who knows when,” Silver clarified.

“Time travel, huh?” Fiona rolled her eyes. “Quite the day for you.”

“Just a visionscape,” said Devon. “And you’re right. I should have warned you. We did find out something interesting, though.”

He quickly brought her up to speed.

Fiona whistled.

Silver was jealous – he’d never been able to master whistling.

He grinned widely. Fiona was a half-Fae who could probably do fantastic feats of magic and who he’d seen contort her body in strange ways, and the thing he was most envious of was her ability to whistle?

He forced himself to focus on the moment at hand.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Fiona was asking him a question.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” he asked.

She spoke slowly, emphasizing each word. “What is your idea, human?”

“Well,” he said. “It’s not quite fully formed. But my thought was that Aillen – sorry, I mean Kaelen – built the motel, right? Duvslaine gave him the deed at that party, and it was just land. About twenty years ago, right?"

Fiona nodded. “Shortly before I was born.”

Silver noted a melancholy tone to her voice that wasn’t normally there, a bittersweet counterpoint to her usual sour.

“Well, there was really nothing at that end of town around that time, as I understand it,” he continued. “I mean, I was just a baby myself, but my dad talks about it sometimes. About how much town has changed since he was a kid, starting with all of that development out past the college.”

“The other end of the town from where we lived,” Devon confirmed. “I always thought it was strange that the Swanky Seven was so far from the Portal Tree.”

“You moved in when we were four,” Silver remembered. “So, the Seven was already there. As were a bunch of other businesses around it.”

“And?” Fiona said. She crossed her arms. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Kaelen owns a few of them, not just the motel. And some of the others, like Planet Apothecary and that brunch spot across the way, are owned by Kaelen’s buddies.”

“What buddies?” said Fiona, narrowing her eyes.

“Buddies that all have that strange shimmer to them,” said Silver. “The shimmer that I now know means they’re actually Fae.”

“That’s where Duvslaine’s been hiding his army!” said Devon. He shot up into the air, flapping his wings to twirl around mid-air before floating back down.

“His army was slaughtered in battle,” said Fiona.

“Not Kaelen, apparently,” Devon pointed out. “And Duvslaine clearly knew that Kaelen would survive. He made plans for it. That battle may have been a smokescreen.”

“We need to get back home,” said Silver. “So we can confront these business owners and you can see if they’re really the Fae you think they might be.”

“How?” said Fiona. “We can’t work the minor portal that brought us here without Aganya or another MilangoFae.”

Silver frowned. “Well, how far away are we? Can’t we drive or something?”

Fiona snickered. “Might be tough to drive from Hungary to the US.”

“What?” Silver stared at her.

“I mean, there’s an ocean in the way,” she chortled.

“We’re in Hungary?”

“Yep.” Fiona took his arm and began to lead him down the path once more. “Better get comfy. Aganya’s not coming back for us until tomorrow. But don’t worry – my mom makes a fantastic Kürtőskalács.”

“Oh,” he said weakly. “That sounds delightful.”