Night came dark, foggy, and cold. I shivered even under my heavy wool cloak, and pulled it tighter around myself.

"Winter is coming," Qoth said. He'd slipped into his feline form at some point, practically melting into the shadows and reemerging as something other. "It will be a long one, I think."

I put that prophecy from my mind. "You're sure the priest went into these woods?"

"Yes." Qoth's head turned, more like an owl than a cat's in the boneless way it twisted. "He is near. And lost. And longing."

"He's ensorceled. Don't make it sound like something poetic."

The night seemed too quiet. I heard no insects or night birds. I barely even caught the rustle of wind. It reminded me of when the revenant had appeared two days past, a comparison that put me ill at ease.

"How did you know?" Qoth asked curiously as I started walking again. In my vision, the woods seemed lit by a pale, almost metallic light. It wasn't perfect and didn't go as far as my natural vision in daylight, but it let me navigate the forest floor without breaking an ankle.

"The signs were obvious. He looked like he hadn't slept in days and was suffering from fever. He also practically said it."

"How observant. I see why Nath likes you."

If only she'd kept her affections to herself, I wouldn't be in this mess. Damn all immortals.

"Hm." Qoth suddenly stopped, his tail twitching. "That's a problem."

"What?" I snapped.

"He's gone into the Wend. Oh, the poor besotted fool."

"Damn it." I started scanning the forest, looking for signs of a breach. "I'll have words with your mistress after this."

"Which one?" Qoth giggled.

Something scuttled out of the underbrush, flitting from one edge of the trees to another before I could get a proper look at it. I had the distinct impression of a human face and spidery legs.

I forced my nerves to settle. "Return to the manor. If anything happens, come find me."

Qoth tilted his head. "I still don't understand what you hope to gain from this, but I'll play along. So long as you act in the girl's interests, you and I are allies."

I wasn't sure I believed him. He was Briar.

But only half. I wondered if I'd ever get that story.

"Just go back to your warlock." I started moving into the denser undergrowth where the spider-thing had vanished. "I'm going to get some answers."

The Wend, more properly known as The Wending Roads, are many things.

They are a system of pathways riddling the lands, like arteries or roots. They are a border between the waking and dreaming worlds, between life and death, between the realm that mortals know and understand and something altogether different. They are a memory, and a curse.

They are a graveyard.

Many beings use the Wend to cross the world at greater speed, or to access the most remote of domains. Powerful mages are usually the only mortals who do so regularly, because you need to be versed in the ways of aura to protect yourself from the wild, often hostile magic suffusing those paths.

The Alder Knights used them regularly once. One of our duties had been to patrol the Wending Roads, to keep the well traveled paths clear of danger and make sure no qliphoths formed.

Since the Table had been broken and disbanded, the Wend had been neglected. I'd seen signs of it often enough. I walked close to death, and it walked alongside me. I mean that literally. It brought me close to hinterlands most mortals rarely even glimpse.

In more recent years, I'd stopped using the Wend unless in great need. They'd grown malignant, an untended garden full of weeds and parasites.

They are also where some the world's oldest and oddest beings dwell. Elves with little interest in living alongside mortals, ancient demigods, trolls, and worse.

There wasn't anything dramatic to tell me I'd stepped from one plane and into another. I simply walked through the night-darkened woods, following that strange creature and subtle sensations in my magic, and eventually I was simply elsewhere.

The trees grew tall and crooked. Eyes blinked at me through cracks in cancerous bark. Above, the sky looked empty of stars so I couldn't be sure there was a sky or just a cavern ceiling.

Something told me it was sky, and not the one I knew.

There were sounds. Mist that wasn't mist. It curled around my legs, hissing like a serpent. Tall, furtive things lurked behind the trees, long nails scraping as they retreated from my sight.

Some were near big as the trees.

Eventually, I passed through the eerie woods into a wide prairie. Violet night flowers bloomed across it, shining softly despite the lack of stars. The colors all looked wrong. Too vibrant, more like jungle growth than the temperate woods I'd left. When I looked closely at the blooms they looked oddly fleshy, more like fungus than flowers.

Half-sunken ruins lay at the center of the field, where the night flowers clustered most densely. I couldn't tell what the original purpose of the structure had been, only getting an impression of cracked marble tinted bright silver-white.

Upon the remnants of a shattered pillar among those ruins sat a god, or part of one.

Nath still wore her martial accoutrements, though they'd changed somewhat. She never looked quite the same between any two appearances, as though she incessantly tweaked details of her own design. This time she wore a long, glimmering dress of green scales reinforced with elegant plates of a darker metal at the shoulders, hips, and ribs. Her black hair formed a braid so long it trailed along the grass below, coiling like a serpent around the base of the pillar. She held a black bow tall as she was, which she propped on her makeshift throne as I approached.

I sensed eyes on me from all around, but couldn't see our audience save as the occasional flicker of movement in the corner of my vision. Either way, I was surrounded by inhuman shapes.

Focusing on the pillar, I inclined my head in a way that was respectful without being subservient. Subservience could be taken as an invitation to make me a servant.

"Nath."

"Headsman." Nath inspected me, amused. Sitting, she met me at eye level. Had she stood, she'd have been near eight feet in height. Her empty eyes crinkled at the corners after a moment. "You found me more easily than I'd anticipated."

"You were luring someone else here. I just had to follow the breadcrumbs you left for him."

The fallen angel opened her mouth into a small O. "Clever. You sensed my mark on him, then?"

"He was half mad, and I've seen faerie enchantment before." I adjusted my cloak and folded my arms. "I need to talk to you."

Nath shrugged and turned her attention back to her war bow. She ran a hand down the long line of palely shining string. Somehow, I knew that bowstring had been fashioned from starlight.

A piece of light cleaved from a faraway star, taken from it like a finger is cut from a hand. It feels the pain of it still, that star, and is dimmer now forever—

I shut that part of me out, focusing on the here and now. "I want some answers. I want to know about this revenant, the one who used to be a nobleman of House Orley."

Nath's expression became considering. "You have learning nothing on your own yet?"

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"Some things. Not as much as I'd like. I know the Carreons and Orleys used to be at war with each other, but I'm missing history. A lot of it."

"And you believe I have the answers."

I noted with mild horror that her braid of black hair writhed around the base of the stone she sat on like a living serpent. I could even hear it hissing. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to calm myself and ignore all the supernatural noise distracting me.

I'd known this would be frustrating — talking to any immortal is, and Nath was malignant on top of it all.

"I know you have answers. You put me here to deal with this problem. So give me the tools to do it. Where is the Orley? How do I put his spirit to rest? If I know the whole story, I believe I can do that."

"It is not my story to tell," Nath said.

I lost hold on my temper. "I'm trying to help your servant! You forced me into this, Nath, and I will see it through, but the least you could do is offer me some fucking help."

"Godchild."

"What?" I asked in irritation.

"Young Emma is my godchild, not my servant. She does as she wills. I simply act in an… educational capacity."

I knew that many fae tended to act in such roles, but Bloody Nath being a godmother took me aback a moment. I calmed myself and spoke with less heat. "If she's your godchild, then help me help her."

"Should I take too direct a hand in this matter, it will cause turmoil between me and my kinfolk." Nath turned her dark gaze to me, uncharacteristically serious. "You know of what I speak."

"The God-Queen's Laws, yes." I sighed. "I thought you didn't have to follow those. You're a renegade."

"I am still bound." Nath pursed her full lips and tilted her chin up to the sky. "In many ways. True, I have often skirted along the edges of my role… and yet in this case I must be cautious. I must play by the rules until a decision is made, which is why I've chosen a proxy."

She indicated me with an elegant gesture. "I will admit, knightling, I often play games for my own amusement. In this case that is not so. Greater interests are at play, and it limits my…"

Nath held up her forefinger and thumb, pinching them together. "Capacity. The fate of House Carreon is spoken for, and I can only do so much as little Emma's benefactor. I cannot, for example, directly interfere in the case of the Burning One, for I am but the girl's mentor, and he is… well. He is you."

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

I furrowed my brow, confused. "He's me? The hell does that mean?"

"Exactly!" Nath smiled broadly, then frowned when she saw my face. "Ah. That is just one of your mortal turns of phrase, isn't it? You were so close."

She pouted, turning her attention back to her bow.

I closed my eyes, trying to think, to see, through all her little turns of phrase, her playful hints and deflections.

"He's not a normal restless shade, is he? When he attacked us the other day… I'd never felt anything like him before. He's not of Draubard, or some fey-cursed soul like your Briar Brothers. What is he? Can you at least tell me that?"

Nath finally stopped fiddling with her cosmic bow and looked at me. "What do you know of your world, Alken Hewer? Of its history, and the forces that have vied for the souls of its denizens since long-ago ages?"

I shook my head slowly, unsure where she meant to lead me. "I know of the Choir, the Sidhe, and all the races of the Eld." I paused a moment and added, "I know of demons."

"Broaden your window, Alder Knight." Nath leaned forward, her gaze intent. "Your people's world was once much bigger."

My mind raced. "You're talking about the old lands. Edaea, and the rest of the Alderes."

Urn was just a subcontinent of a much wider land. Not small, necessarily, but only a corner fragment of the whole.

"The Riven Order." The name came to me in a flash. "When the God-Queen earned the Edaean Houses as vassals, she brought us into the subcontinent and barred other powers, other gods, from passing over the Fences into this land."

I knew the names of some of those powers from legend and ill rumor. Dread spirits, ancient things, beings like the elves but more malevolent than even the Briar. Realms of the dead unbound by any law or creed like what governed the denizens of Draubard.

The Cambion.

"Much was left behind," Nath intoned. "Much was broken and made anew when my queen brought your people into this place."

"The queen you rebelled against," I reminded her.

"I DID NOT FORSAKE HER."

The sudden lash of rage startled me. Nath was suddenly on her feet, looming over me like a castle tower. She became hunched, shadowed, her empty eyes suddenly far from empty as shapes boiled in the sockets. She bared stained teeth and reached for me with crooked nails.

I went on guard, drawing up power, but part of me knew there'd be no defending myself against this.

But the dark angel didn't attack. Her voice came as a serpent hiss, a cacophony of sound layered over it from the surrounding field like every insect and bird within a mile spoke in tune with her.

"My queen was already long departed from these shores when I broke from the Choir Concilium. My conflict is and has always been with mine kinfolk, not Her. I have not broken faith, nor have I rebelled against the one being who has ever earned my love and loyalty so completely."

Her voice suddenly calmed, becoming an almost soothing croon. "Watch your tongue, mortal, lest I burn it from your mouth."

She pulled back, returning to her normal size and form. My heart beat a panicked tune in my chest. Belatedly, cold sweat began to break out on my skin.

Nath spoke as though nothing had happened. "But you draw close to your answers. While this more intimate struggle between the families of Orley and Carreon is homegrown in this land, its roots go much deeper."

I forced control over my fear and focused on the conversation, rather than how close I knew I'd just drawn to death. "So something older is behind Orley. A power from across the Fences."

"Older even," Nath drawled. "But yes."

That could mean half a thousand different things. The western world had been ruined by many ages of war and calamity. There were countries there, humans who lived normal lives so far as I knew such as in Bantes and its neighbors, but they were more the exception than the rule. Edaea didn't belong to humanity anymore, or anything friendly to it.

The fact this mysterious third party had drawn the attention of someone like Nath and compelled the Choir to involve me might narrow it down. I needed to do some research.

I heard a sound at the edge of the woods. I turned to watch a man stumble out of the undergrowth. He wore a preoster's habit and a haggard, exhausted expression. I recognized him as the priest who'd been with Brenner the previous night. Eskander.

His eyes alighted on Nath, and his mouth fell agape as he stumbled forward like a puppet pulled on inescapable strings.

"It's you," the priest croaked. He'd lost his shoes in the woods, and his feet were raw and blistered. His hands and face had been lacerated as though the forest had tried to maul him on his way here. I suspected it had.

Nath glanced at the priest, looking bemused. "Interesting. I expected him to die in the forest."

"He saw you and Emma together," I said. I turned on the Onsolain, clenching my jaw in sudden anger. "Did you lure him out here to silence him?"

"No." Nath's expression remained mild as she watched the man stumble drunkenly toward us through the field of violet flowers. "He has been trying to find me for many weeks. He is in love with me, I think."

She tittered, pressing the back of one hand to her lips. "It's not the first time. Oh, but a priest? That is a fresh amusement."

I sighed and began to step toward the poor fool. I couldn't just leave him out here to get eaten by the Wend's creatures, or worse.

"Wait," Nath held out a hand and I stopped. Though she spoke softly, something in her voice told me it would be a very bad idea to ignore her.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, knowing I probably wouldn't like the answer.

"I do not know," Nath mused. She seemed surprised at the admission. "A man of faith, guided to darkness? It is hardly a first, but still I wonder… will he balk when he sees just how twisted the briar behind this rose is, how sharp its thorns, or will it allure him all the more? I am curious."

The man jabbered, half-incoherent. I grimaced at the sight. "This isn't love. He's just ensorcelled. You know you can have that effect on mortals."

Nath shrugged one silvered shoulder. "And what does that matter? Do you think it matters to him?"

"It might," I insisted. "If he had half a brain to think it over just now."

"I have not enchanted him." Nath turned her empty eyes back to me. "Not with any deliberate exertion of my power. I am surprised by you, Hewer. Were you not so enchanted yourself once? Do you begrudge others such joy now it has been lost to you?"

I took a deep breath, fighting to keep my temper in check. "That is not… damn it, you don't feel anything for him! He's just some poor bastard you see as a toy, or a tool."

I could well imagine what kind of purposes the Angel of the Briar would put a corrupted preacher to.

"Yes." Nath didn't have so much as a trace of shame on her immortally beautiful face. "And you see yourself in him, and it angers you."

The blood went out of me then. I knew she could see my skin drain of color, the cold rage on my face. It didn't impress her. Nath only lifted her chin, unmoved by how deep those words cut.

"The world is hard and cruel, O' fallen knight. You may resent those of us who choose to indulge in dreams, but it is not your place to take them. Keep your waking nightmare until it breaks you, I care not."

She flicked two fingers to one side, causing a ripple of shadow to pass where her touch scarred the air. "That man has had a long, difficult life, and he will spend his final days lonely and frustrated. I can show him wonders. Which do you think he will prefer?"

"You expect me to believe you're doing this for his sake?" I sneered.

"I care not a wit what you believe." Nath shook her head. "Will you challenge me for this soul, Headsman? Now, when you need my good will and my aid?"

I glanced at the man. He'd stopped halfway across the field, his knees giving way to exhaustion. He knelt there in the flowers, gazing in stupid wonder at the shadow-maned angel who'd probably haunted his every dream and waking moment since he first laid eyes on her.

It made me sick to think there were beings in the cosmos who could take our will away so easily. Had I really been like that once?

If I had, I'd woken up. Perhaps it was best to let the priest find his own way out of the murk. Besides, Nath had a point. I had other problems, and was no hero besides.

I dismissed the besotted fool from my attention. "Where can I go to learn more about this matter with the Orley revenant?"

"Did you know that his kind began as scholars?" Nath smiled beatifically at the preoster. "Even today they are your people's memory, though they wield dogma more than the astrologers and philosopher-priests I recall."

The Church was my best bet then. It gave me an idea, and a direction.

I turned to leave without a word, though my eyes strayed to the mad priest. Nath strode toward him, and I saw the effect it had on the man. The sight made my gut twist.

I wondered how many of the Brothers of the Briar had started out just like him.

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