The weeks came and went in Kezta Frasika.

The news of their entrance on the island seemed to have reached every faery inhabitant in as fast as the first two weeks. Soon the southern halls of the Erihppas sent word to the Captain about frequent demonstrations and campaigns from traditionalist groups who demanded that the goddess make a public appearance to the fey people to calm the unrest of the majority and to suppress the outward skepticism of the younger fey.

The sudden occurrences had forced a hesitant Leona to distance herself from Jarael, Tavus, and Nareana; a fact that did not escape the all-too-keen Giraj.

“Did Leona tell you when she will be able to get back?” he asked Tavus one morning, Tavus did not bother looking up from the hammock where he sat polishing his sword.

“Apart from several engagements the Serelda have planned for her, and private dinners with the chieftains and noblemen of the different sub-races of the fey, she didn’t say much else,” Tavus replied smugly, looking at his sword reflect the light from the lake above. Jarael leaned against the white balustrade of the pergola and frowned.

“This isn’t good,” he said, “Not that I don’t value the hospitality the fey have given us, but if we don’t get to Neizagaard soon enough, I shudder to think about what might have happened to her grandparents by now.”

Tavus sighed and stood up from the hammock and replaced his sword in its sheath.

“Relax, Jarael. I know that Leona is worried herself,” he said, walking over to where Jarael stood. “But I’m sure she can’t escape the whole political rubbish these people have. Just think, a goddess here on earth! Since when has one of them roamed the land?”

“But Leona has the right and the authority to set things aside for the more important issues. Like rescuing her grandparents,” Jarael rebutted, looking up at the swirling patches of blue above them.

“I’m certain that Leona has that in mind.”

Just then a figure garbed in bright turquoise quickly approached them across one of the several covered walkways that branched from the pergola. The two men stared at the newcomer.

“I thought I’d never find you!” said Leona’s voice. She wore a draping bright green dress, shining pieces of turquoise on a golden chain gleamed on her neck splendidly, the Arita Maija flickered crimson on her chest as if there were living flames underneath, and her golden hair was flowing majestically down her back. She was out of breath when she stopped by Tavus’ shoulder.

“Leona?” Jarael said inquiringly, looking at her for the first time in almost a month since their supper o n the night they arrived.

Leona swallowed huge gulps of air, leaning against the white pillars for support.

“Who else?” she said, looking up at the both of them through kohl-rimmed eyes, Jarael and Tavus smiled widely and had her in a bear hug before she can say anything else.

“We thought you’ve forgotten about us,” Tavus said jokingly. Leona raised a beautiful eyebrow.

“You know I’d never do that,” she said, fanning herself with her hand.

Jarael smiled down at her, “You’re looking impressive today,” he said appraisingly, “I was getting rather accustomed to the Leona all covered in blood and grime.”

Leona punched him playfully on the arm and laughed. “I miss that too. This thing Reanitchka made me wear is revolting. I must admit that it’s pretty if it wasn’t so damn uncomfortable. I was restraining myself from scratching my eyes when they put this stuff on. Anyway, I have to go back to the Serelda’s session soon. I only told them that I just went out to get a breath of air. So I only have a couple of minutes to spare. Where’s Nareana?”

“She’s with Evra,” Tavus replied. Leona nodded.

“Listen,” she said quietly, her voice dropping into an almost inaudible whisper. “I have figured out a way for us to get inside Neizagaard with the faery forces behind our backs.”

“What?” Tavus said in disbelief, “You’ve persuaded them to rescue your grandparents? You’ve told them about our reason for our going to Neizagaard?”

“No, no,” Leona said, shaking her head impatiently. “Listen to me before you say anything. Evra told me that Kezta Frasika once had a King. Since the time of the Fall, the King has turned himself in to Ramadak to prevent the annihilation of his race. She told me that he was imprisoned in Neizagaard and that they have made passageways for troops to go from here to the fortress, only that they can manage to get just on the outside. They have never ventured inside its walls.”

“Her point is that we lead the troops inside the fortress using Lord Thu’ril’s directions, save their King and her grandparents as well, “Jarael finished, his face lighting up on the realization, “Leona that is pure genius.”

Leona smiled widely, “Exactly, but it’s not all that simple,” she said. “Our problem now is to convince the Serelda to agree on it. I must tell you that we should take care not to create a dispute with them. They’d make sure you stay your place. And they’re not so keen on letting go of their authority over the island just yet. And Evra had told me that T’lakr roam the island.”

“What do you plan to do, then?” Tavus asked.

“I’m planning on talking to Captain Erfla privately. You see, he’s the King’s son. He couldn’t do anything against the Serelda’s whims. I have a gut feeling that they’re using his father’s absence against him to put off any attempts of throwing them out.”

“Which means that they’re showing outwardly that they’ve exhausted all efforts to rescue the King but to no avail?” Jarael said. Leona nodded gravely.

Leona bid them goodbye shortly afterwards, hurrying back the walkway she had come from. Jarael and Tavus watched her as she disappeared behind the oak doorways.

“I have a bad feeling about the Serelda,” Jarael said quietly, pondering on the information Leona had given them.

“But it’s the only way we can save Leona’s grandparents,” Tavus said.

“I know,” Jarael agreed somberly. “But this Reanitchka person, is this the leader of the Serelda?”

“Well, if we go against their likings we’d have dangerous enemies who will stop at nothing to see us fail. Especially if it’s power and authority that we’re talking about…”

Leona fixed herself as she neared the conference hall, standing tall with her chin up. The guards opened the door for her and she went inside.

After sitting through another hour of Reanitchka’s seemingly endless ranting about the problems with the trolls, Captain Erfla stood up and had the meeting adjourned.

Leona sat in her chair and pretended to go over long scrolls of documents until the hooves of the last member of the Serelda disappeared behind the door. She got up and peered cautiously out the door to see the old faeries chattering a good distance away.

She closed the door quickly and turned to approach the captain seated at the head of the long table frowning as he reviewed some reports.

Leona cleared her throat to catch his attention.

Erfla looked up at her and stood up quickly, bowing low.

“What can I do for you, your grace?” he asked, offering Leona a seat. Leona took it and sat as graceful as she could. A little charm always helps.

Leona watched the faery captain as he arranged the messy pile of paper in front of him and sat down. When he had finished, he turned to Leona curiously.

“Do you have anything to tell me, bright one?”

Leona smiled sheepishly, and then her expression grew somber.

“Captain,” she said, “from the past weeks that I’ve been here I’ve heard talk of a King…”

Erfla tensed and tightened his grip on the pommel of his sword. His eyes had a dark look in them. “Yes,” he said, voice devoid of emotion, “carry on.”

“Well, I found out that he was your father, King Jamori. Am I right?” she said nervously. Erfla looked down at the polished blue floor.

“Yes, he was my father,” Erfla finally said, looking into Leona’s eyes. “Imprisoned far away and never heard from again. Why does this topic seem to interest you, brilliant one?”

Leona gulped, her nervousness was going to give her away.

“I – I was thinking,” she said, clasping her hands on her lap, “If we revive the search for him. He is still alive, am I right?”

“I am most sure that my father is still alive even in the hands of the evil one,” Erfla replied. “But we cannot do anything to save him now – even if I wanted to do so for the past few centuries.

“Our forces were ambushed on the island of Neizagaard by hordes of T’lakr as if they had been waiting for us. On every attempt, we lost more and more men. Women and children back here in Kezta Frasika are losing their husbands, fathers, and children. We considered our losses and in the end we resolved that we cannot bear to lose more. The Serelda have stopped the search and placed my father in the hands of Fate. It was a tragedy I could not and would not tolerate. But even I have no power to do otherwise.

“When my mother died, I was set on to get my father back. But no matter how hard we tried, we cannot get in the blasted fortress. As if it had sealed itself off. Our hope of getting our sovereign back has faltered, and there is nothing, nothing else that we can do.”

“What if,” she said slowly, “I tell you that I know the way inside Neizagaard? All the way into the heart of the fortress itself…”

Leona had hoped that Erfla will take the bait, and he did.

“Inside the fortress?” he said frowning, but not disbelievingly so, “Our scholars have studied the structure of the bastion. They cannot make out a way in.”

“The god, Lord Thu’ril, taught us how to navigate its underground passageways. We know that exact location of the prison. If we stick with the plan, we may have your father back here to rule over Kezta Frasika once again,” Leona said, trying to make her words sound as tempting as possible.

Erfla frowned and put his head in his hands, thinking hard. He closed his dark eyes and sighed loudly.

“That is a proposition too tempting to resist, your grace,” he said not looking up. Emotion flooded his hushed voice.

“I am not offering it as a bargain, Captain,” Leona said, “I’m presenting this as a favor and a blessing to all of Kezta Frasika.”

Erfla was silent for a long time, probably turning Leona’s words over and over in his head.

“I shall think about this and tell you of my response, soon, your grace,” he said finally, standing up and fixing his black eyes at Leona. She could almost feel the passion stirring up inside of him. She stood up as well and curtsied.

“Think wisely, Captain,” she said, and then she dropped her voice to a whisper. “I know how it is to lose the people that I love, one tragedy after the next. I wouldn’t want you to stay in the same predicament forever, now that you have the chance to make it all right again.” She fought back the tears threatening to burst from her eyes as she remembered her grandparents and the parents she never knew.

“Take care, Captain Erfla,” Leona said, placing her hand on his shoulder. Erfla bowed lower.

“And the same to you, too, bright one.”

Leona turned on her heel and strode out of the conference room; her heart hammering wildly and the Arita Maija burning under her skin as the guards closed the door behind her.

The rest is up to the gods.

Back inside the hall, Captain Erfla dropped back in his seat and buried his head in his arms in anguish.

Suddenly a voice came up from somewhere behind him: sharp, clear, and frighteningly sinister. The faery captain spun around.

“Such an interesting proposal coming from one of great, rather immense, power, don’t you think?”

Reanitchka stepped out from the darkness, her tentacles agitated and her eyes flashing dangerously on her insect-like face, grotesquely intimidating in the half-light.