We started moving. The way they’d explained it we still had a long way to go even after we came through. Now that I was here, I knew that was true; I knew exactly where we needed to go. I had no idea what was between here and there, but I could point out the direction with my eyes closed.

With myself to point the way and Bhuto to find the route, we walked into the land of the fae.

In the second hour, I asked, “Are there territories?”

Brock glanced around. “Here?”

I nodded.

“Aye,” he said, “we’re nowhere near a friendly place or one of those princess’ palaces they put in those ridiculous fairy books if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I let my expression show what I thought of his guess. “You should read one of those books, Brock. I have, and I wouldn’t go near one of those palaces on a bet. Why is it there isn’t any friendly territory around here?”

He shrugged, looking around. “Fae wars. The losers get driven to the hinterlands and these are they, no offense. Violent winters, vicious heat in the summers; it’s the worst of all the worlds in one place. The things that thrive here…” he broke off a branch from a bent tree that seemed to have grown up in the middle of a high wind. “They’re strong enough to take it, they leave, or they die.”

I nodded. “It sounds exactly like home, except people live there by choice.”

Brock grunted. “That’s why the dirt-eaters want them.”

I didn’t understand what he meant, but Bhuto hissed a warning before I could say anything.