Sylvia keeps her promise, and the plan proceeds

It’s a long few minutes, waiting for Sylvia to show herself. Lux tries to keep still, to avoid pacing despite her restless legs – the last thing she needs is to make noise and draw unwanted attention. Gill, a little more out of breath after their run, leans on his club and stares down the slope into the misty gloom. It’s not hard for Lux to imagine what’s going through his mind; everyone he knows and loves is down there, a prisoner of Athisz’s will.

Fortunately, Sylvia’s eventual arrival is sparing on their nerves, heralded by a flitter of glowing sprites who each make a little airborne bow to their Queen before flying back into the mist. Sylvia steps up to where Lux and Gill are waiting, while Minn makes a half-mocking mimicry of the same gesture the other sprites did.

“Glad it’s you,” Lux says. “Some of your treeman allies tried to jump us along the way.”

Sylvia scowls. “You have my apologies,” she says. “I’ll see to them after this over. At least you made it here safely.”

“Might be the last thing we do ‘safely’,” Gill says. “If they know we’re coming…”

Sylvia looks down the slope, at the shape of the Erlking’s stone citadel looming out of the mist. “My husband will know I’m nearby,” she says, “but I can mask that sense, to a degree. With luck, he’ll think I’m still with the attack ****. The closer we get, though – well. We’ll see.”

“Ooh, ooh.” Minn bounces with excitement. “But we need to be sneaky, right? No lights? Soooo…”

Lux glares for a moment before she sighs in resignation. “Fine. This time.”

Minn lets out a delighted squeal, and Lux pulls her top open a little to let the little sprite squirm on in. In spite of the discomfort and indignity, there is still something stupidly reassuring about the warm presence tucked away in there. Sharp elbows or no.

Gill watches the process with an air of disbelief. “You’re letting – that – ?”

“You’re jealous!” Minn calls out in a muffled sing-song.

“Minn, shush.” Lux gives Gill an embarrassed shrug. “It’s easier this way. Let’s move.”

The descent down the slope feels like a long and awkward process, Lux and Gill taking every effort to avoid noise while Sylvia moves with silent, regal grace. Each downward step brings the settlement closer, and soon the citadel looms high overhead, great stone-hewn slabs bespeaking its age and majesty. Off in the distance, fey war-horns blare, drums beat; armies square off, the battle not yet joined. Hopefully, there’s still time to put a stop to this before that changes.

At the edge of the settlement, Lux pauses, peering ahead for any sign of movement. But things seem quiet here – if the townsfolk are around, they must be busy with other tasks. Slowly, the three move forward, trying to keep to the shadows and avoid making too much noise.

As they go, they spot a few figures moving around in the gloom; villagers going about their work with slow, plodding steps, apparently oblivious to any nearby danger. The cookfires have burned low and things are quiet. With any luck, most of those who aren’t mustering to fight might be asleep –

Ahead, there’s a sudden shout. Quick as she can, Lux pulls Gill with her behind the cover of a wall, while Sylvia simply – isn’t where she was before. Lux holds her breath, listening.

Heavy footsteps approach, and voices raised in ribald celebration. Apparently, the call to fight hasn’t drawn all of the fey fighters away from their revels. Lux sees a duo of satyrs marching past, dragging a pair of mortal women with them – who don’t seem to be getting into the spirit, their expressions blank and their footing unsteady.

Lux grits her teeth. Their whole mission depends on going unseen, but the thought of turning her back on this rankles like nothing else. Those women aren’t in control of their own will, and even if they were, the satyrs probably wouldn’t care…

She gets a better look at the women as they go past. One is dark-haired, stocky, plump – innocent-looking, dressed as if she was just dragged from work at a kitchen. The other has dirty blonde hair, a slim build, a tattoo visible on her neck where her dress has been pawed down. Rosabel.

Lux has almost made up her mind to charge when she feels Gill place a hand on her arm. “I’ll look after them,” he whispers, hefting his club. He looks at her with determination in his eyes. “You two can deal with the gods and kings – I’ll stick to what I know.”

With a moment’s hesitation, Lux nods. She watches Gill set off, tailing the rowdy procession, before – with Sylvia back at her side, as if she were never gone – she heads in the direction of the citadel.