Page 70 of The Princes of Stone and Steel

“You destroyed everything not natural of Roshambo,” he said. “Machines, gasses, technologies—you got rid of them all in a literal flash. The residents of Roshambo now have to rely on the magic of the land and hard work. That means no more drilling, digging or chemicals leaking into the realm.”

Two months I had lain unconscious. Steele, Kori and the Fae had force-fed me and exercised my legs. He’d struck down Stipator and at the end of the battle, deposed his father from the throne.

He and Korrigan shared the responsibilities of ruling a land until they decided who would take over for good.

That was the good news.

I couldn’t be sure his other news was totally bad, but the outliers still needed help recovering from the poison of the three clans and there hadn’t been a skoulikotrypa to open up the whole time I’d been asleep. Without the need for a new flesh to enter the land, no one knew if the portal would ever open up again.

Which meant this was my world now.

I still held onto one question that my time in Roshambo failed to answer. “How come I didn’t age when I was back in my world? I shouldn’t have survived into the twenty-first century.”

“You’re the flesh, Mils.”

“Yeah, got that. The whole glowy skin, magical fingers thing clued me in to that a while ago.”

“You know that time works differently here and you know that the Papyrus drugged you to keep you under their control,” he said. I obviously glared at him. “Right, well once you landed in Roshambo, you became one of us. Even when they hid you back in your world, you were still one of us.”

Huh, I liked that.

“But—” he continued. “We got Shefdew to admit that they’d moved you to several different lands, lands beyond Roshambo which was why it took us so long to find you.”

“There are other lands?” I asked.

“I’m ashamed to admit that it was the first I’d heard of them. How the Papyrus found out, he wouldn’t say, but we’re considering sending out a scouting party to make contact with other people.”

Wow.

Surprise of surprises, we received a visitor to the castle. The very lady who called it a cabin, Baba Yaga, herself showed up at our door and even though I should’ve been happy to entertain a guest, I became leery of her purpose here, unsure that I had it in me to take anymore of her prophecies.

Steele led her into the study while I made a stop to the kitchen to ask the sprites to rustle up some refreshments.

“What brings you to our door?” Steele used a tone to imply his trepidation at the witch showing up out of the blue, too.

She clucked out her laugh. The woman with chicken legs clucked. Why not? “I owe you the rest of the prophecy.”

Both Steele and I tensed.

“I conjured the cabin a millennia ago. When the first prophecies of the fall of Roshambo began to funnel in. I conjured it for the flesh who would free the outliers and save Roshambo.”

Steele came to sit next to me on the chaise, wrapping an arm around my waist to keep me close. I welcomed the contact. Though, I found, as she spoke, that I didn’t actually need it because what she said actually sounded good. The sprites brought in tea and little spongy cakes. The ones they offered to Steele and me were yellow honey cakes. On the plate for the witch of the wood—yellow sponge with seeds.

“Each new flesh had the ability to free the outliers,” she continued. “But these men sought power and riches instead. When the universe sent you, Millicent Merchant, the visions changed. I saw the connection between you and the Forfex prince. It needed to happen. I sent the wind to you that night in the cave. It was my message he carried, to find the white horse. Once you found him, the rest played out as it was meant to.”

“I was meant to be kidnapped by the Papyrus?” I asked.

“Yes. You needed time—time to figure out the difference between those who would love you and those who would control you.”

“I definitely did that.”

“You also needed to spend time in the outliers. With the prince, on Forfex lands, you had no way to come in fully to your powers.”

That made sense. All in all, her visit turned out to be a short yet pleasant one. She gave us what she felt we needed, ate her cake, and left. That was it.

With Baba Yaga’s words never far from the forefront of my mind, I continued to grow stronger over the weeks, three more of them passed when we got word that Làir had foaled a baby girl. The first for her and Capall. Steele and I loaded our gifts and set off for the Slippy lands at the far end of the outliers.

We passed the bluff where I’d first spoken to Steele so many years ago.

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