Thane sat cross legged in the grass, the map unfolded across his lap.
It still shimmered faintly, the ink alive with soft motion. Three dots hovered near one another beneath the trees Thane figured that was them. And one dot, a little ways off, pulsed as it moved toward the trunk-shaped symbol of the Lady's house.
He watched as it reached the house.
It drifted toward the lone one, slow at first, then more urgently, closing the space between them.
Sollene.
He hadn't said anything when she left. No one had. She'd run too quickly for words to catch up, her footsteps swallowed by the woods.
The dot reached the other, and for a long time, they lingered there together. Not moving. Just there.
Then, one of the dots dimmed. Gradually. Then it was gone.
Thane swallowed hard, blinking down at the map. The last dot stood still for a while. Then, finally, it began moving back in their direction.
He didn't say anything.
Cress was picking at the petals of a weedflower nearby, plucking them one by one with careful fingers. "What do you think is taking her so long?"
Cael was leaning against a tree, half-hidden in its shade. His journal rested closed beside him, untouched. "I dunno. Maybe she's lost."
"Should we go look for her?" Cress glanced between them, the stem of the flower now bare in her hand.
Thane shifted, brushing a bit of dirt from the edge of the map. "Just leave her be," he mumbled. "I'm sure she'll be able to find her way back."
Cress frowned but didn't argue. She turned her gaze back to the woods, watching the wind ripple through the branches like something breathing.
A beetle crawled across Thane's boot. He let it.
"You've been looking at that map for a long time," Cael said, walking over and settling into the grass beside Thane.
"It's an interesting map," Thane replied. "You know how to read a map?"
"No."
Thane shifted the parchment slightly so Cael could see better. He pointed to the glowing lines, tracing the winding paths and odd symbols. For a while, he explained what little he knew how the dots moved, how some places pulsed faintly, how others seemed to flicker. Cael didn't say much, but he watched closely.
Then Cael stood up, brushing his hands on his pants. He squinted into the woods. "I think that's Sollene."
The others followed his gaze. A figure moved slowly through the trees, the sunlight glancing off her pale hair.
Her eyes were slightly puffed.
"You were gone a while," Thane called, his voice just loud enough to carry.
"I got turned around," Sollene said as she stepped into the clearing. Her voice was steady, but her eyes didn't quite meet theirs.
Cress moved without hesitation, taking her hand. "Are you okay?"
Sollene nodded. "Just tired."
She sat down beside them. Even though she was there, Thane could tell she wasn't really listening. Her hands were still. Her eyes stayed on the dirt. Thane had an idea of what had happened, but he wasn't sure if he should say anything. And even if he did he didn't know what he'd say.
They talked a little about Thistledown, about rest, about food. Sollene stayed quiet.
The others didn't press her.
Thane rolled the map and pack it in his bag. "I think we should get going. The Lady really wanted us to reach it before dark."
Everyone got to their feet. The silence stretched a little longer, held together by something fragile and unspoken.
They walked.
Birdsong filtered through the trees, light and distant. The sun had shifted, high above now, painting the forest in golden heat. Their footsteps were muffled in pine needles and fallen leaves. They moved in the shade as much as they could.
It was Cress who finally broke the quiet.
"The Lady said something about spreading stories?" she asked, balancing on a fallen log like it was a tightrope.
"Yeah, are we supposed to go door to door telling people about ourselves?" Cael raised an eyebrow.
"That would be fun." Cress hopped off the log and spun around, walking backward with a grin. "A tale of four kids who stumbled into a strange world." She laughed, but then her voice faltered. "My dad would never believe me." Her smile fell as the memory caught up with her.
Sollene offered a small smile, gentle but distant. "I can sing. I've been told I have a beautiful voice. Would that help?"
"I can't," Thane said quietly. "I play instruments, though."
Cael gave a tiny, almost reluctant shrug. "I used to write stories."
"I can't do anything related to stories," Cress said. "The only thing I can do is make dolls and their clothes."
"When we get to Thistledown, we'll see how they go about telling their stories. Maybe our skills will fit somehow," Thane said.
Everyone nodded. The thought lingered between them something like hope, or at least a plan.
They walked on, the forest shifting as the trees began to thin. The path became more solid underfoot, edged in wild grasses and low ferns. The scent of wild mint drifted in on the breeze, mingled with the sharper sweetness of crushed lavender.
They passed between two standing stones carved with old curling runes, half-swallowed by moss and age. The sun had drifted lower now, casting long shadows ahead of them.
"Do you think we're close?" Sollene asked, looking over at Thane.
He pulled out the map again and squinted. "Just past the ridge. If the symbols are right... Thistledown should be just beyond those trees."
"Do you think it's safe?" Cael asked.
"No, I don't," Thane said, deadpan.
Cael's face paled. Sollene shot Thane a look.
"Thane…" she scolded gently.
"We'll be fine," she added, more for Cael's sake than her own.
They kept walking. The path sloped gently down now, winding through silvery birch and wide patches of soft moss. Cress had fallen behind a little, her steps slower.
Sollene glanced back. "What's wrong?"
Cress looked up, hesitating. "Are we going to keep moving as a group when we get to the town? Or... are we going our separate ways?"
The air went quiet again.
"We have no idea what we're going to find," Thane said, his voice careful. "I don't think it'd be wise to split up."
"I don't want to be left alone," Cress said, barely above a whisper.
"Me neither," Cael said, eyes on the ground.
They didn't say anything more, but no one walked ahead or fell behind after that. Their steps stayed close together. A shape was beginning to form between them unspoken, fragile, and real.
They kept walking.
Eventually, the trees gave way to a high hill, and beyond it, nestled in the valley like a pocket of smoke and silver light, lay Thistledown.
It shimmered faintly in the fading light half-real, half-dream.
Cottages leaned like tired mushrooms, their rooftops curled and tufted with moss. Some buildings spiraled upward like seashells, others nestled into the hillside as though they'd grown there. Lanterns floated freely in the air, glass orbs of soft blue and golden glow, drifting lazily between homes like fireflies that had forgotten gravity.
The streets were winding ribbons of polished stone, some so narrow they seemed to vanish between hedges of flowering bramble. Others arched into tiny bridges over dry creeks filled with multicolored pebbles that sparkled faintly under the lantern light.
People moved through the streets if they could be called people. One figure passed with antlers curling from her brow like driftwood. Another had hair that moved as if underwater. A tall man with a mirror for a face stood talking to a fox-headed child who floated an inch above the ground. No one hurried. No one looked worried.
The group stopped at the edge of the ridge.
For a moment, no one spoke.
They stared, breath caught in their chests. There were houses. Real houses. Light, people, shapes that meant shelter, food, and something that looked like a village if one squinted past the surreal details.
Cress put her palm over her mouth gasping in awe, her fingers trembling just slightly.
"We're here," Sollene whispered.
"Finally," Thane said, almost in awe.
"Thank you, Mr. Map," Cress said as Thane rolled it up and tucked it away in his satchel.
He gave her a look half bewildered, half amused like she'd just greeted a tree with a bow.
"What?" Cress exclaimed, her hands on her hips in mock offense. "She said you have to be polite!"
Sollene let out a soft chuckle, the first real one since she'd returned. "She's not wrong."
Thane just shook his head, but there was a smile tugging at his mouth as they started down the hill toward the village.
A breeze tugged at their clothes, carrying with it the scent of chimney smoke, herbs, and something sweet like honey and ink.
And then they descended, the new silence not a heavy one but one of promise. Of something beginning.