have strict orders not to—”

“Let in nobodies,” the female guard finished.

Nula closed her mouth, the skin along her cheekbones turning a deep blue.

Brutus snarled. Mack nudged Poppy with his elbow.

Poppy cleared her throat. “I, um, have gold to trade,” she offered. “For information.”

“Just tell her Nula’s here.” Nula’s hands came off her hips and twisted in front of her. “Tell her. She’ll want to see me.”

“Why would she want to see you?”

“I—she just will. She—” Nula whispered something else in the male guard’s ear. Poppy could practically hear Mack scowl.

“I don’t believe you,” the guard said.

“You better listen to her,” Poppy called. “They like her, you know. You’re going to get in big trouble for talking to her like that.”

The guard rolled his eyes at her, and Poppy sent him a look that would peel paint. Then, while Nula continued to argue with both guards, Poppy studied the gate. It didn’t really seem like much of a barrier—more symbolic. Maybe they could just sneak around it while the guards were distracted. She nudged Mack and stepped toward the rowan trees.

Mack shook his head, reaching out with his hand low to try to pull her back. Poppy sidestepped and took another step toward the gate. There was a whistling sound and two arrows plunked into the ground just in front of Poppy’s feet.

Poppy swallowed and stepped back to stand by Mack.

Nula, meanwhile, was showing signs of having a fit. “I’ll find a way to tell her I was here! And when she gets word of what you called me, she’s going to—she’s going to turn you both into newts.”

“We have our orders,” the male guard snarled. “Do your worst, pooka.”

Nula stood completely still for the time it took Poppy to blink, then—zimpf—a little white weasel disappeared through the gate.

“I’ll skin you for that,” he shouted after her, then exchanged a look with the other guard.

“Think the queen will come?” the female asked in a low voice.

“Doubt it. That pooka was lying.”

“All I know is you better hope she doesn’t bring the queen with her. If she was lying, you just let the pooka get past you into the realm. If she wasn’t lying, you should have taken them in under guard. Either way, the queen will be none too pleased with you.”

“And what were you doing, might I ask, while I was—”

“I’m just saying.”

Poppy leaned toward Mack. “Did she go to get the queen?”

Mack stared in the direction Nula had disappeared. “I just hope she’s right about them liking her.”

Poppy tightened her ponytail and thought. The Fae guards stood unmoving, but she could feel others, watching from the trees.

It seemed like ages, but couldn’t have been more than a few excruciating minutes until a whoosh of feathers caught Poppy’s eye.

Nula was back, looking like she’d flown through a thorn bush. Her expression was orbidding. Whatever had happened, the pooka hadn’t come out on top.

Poppy opened her mouth to ask what had happened, but another look at Nula’s stormy face changed her mind. The pooka would tell them when she was ready. An image of her mother flashed through Poppy’s thoughts. She was sketching a faery at her desk while Poppy watched. She could even hear her mother’s voice, clear and bright. There are three things faeries can’t resist … a rarity, a gamble, and a riddle. They will try to deny it, of course. They always obscure the truth, but in the end, they’ll give in. They are dangerous—very—but they always keep their word. Poppy cleared her throat. “The faeries … they think they’re pretty smart, right?”

Mack’s eyes narrowed as if he knew she was up to something. “They think they’re the smartest—the best of the best in every way.”

Nula kicked a tree.

“So they’re proud,” Poppy went on, her eyes pinned on Nula. “And … they like to take risks?”

Mack nodded. “What are you getting at?”

Poppy didn’t answer. Instead she strode toward the guards. They straightened. “So,” Poppy began. “I’ve heard faeries know everything there is to know, but I don’t think I believe it. You don’t seem so smart. So, I think…” She paused. “I think I can outsmart you.”

“Poppy,” Mack hissed.

She swished her hand at him. “Here’s my challenge. Answer my riddle correctly and we’ll go away … but if you can’t answer it correctly, then you have to let us through.”

The female guard scoffed. “As if any human question could trouble us.”

“Why should we?” the other guard said at the same time.

Mack appeared at her side, glowering.

“No reason,” Poppy admitted. “But if you don’t … I’ll know you can’t.”

“What do we gain should we win?”

Poppy hesitated, then bent to dig in her pack. A smirk danced across her face as she held up … “We’re almost out of apples. But I’ll spare this one, if you answer correctly.”

The guards looked at each other.

Poppy turned the fruit so that the sunlight gleamed against its pink-red skin. “Beth has the juiciest … the most luscious apples.” She raised an eyebrow at them. “You don’t get too many of these in the deep … do you?”

The female snorted. “Fine,” she said. “Ask your riddle. It will be amusing to see you try.”

“And if you can’t answer, you’ll let us in. Right?”

The male guard relaxed, a tight sneer working its way across his face. “As you say.”

Mack stepped back. Poppy could feel the disapproval radiating off him, but what else could she do? Nula had struck out. She had to at least try. Her parents were counting on her.

“Good,” she said to the guards, raising her hands to her hips. “Here’s my riddle. Only one color, but rarely one size. Stuck at the bottom, but easily flies. Present in sun, but never in rain. It does no harm, and feels no pain.”

The male guard frowned and cast an uncertain look at the other, who had gone quite pale. Then his mouth twitched. He began to laugh—a rough, grating sound.

Poppy smirked.

“You have no idea, do you,” he said as the female guard grew even paler. “The queen is going to have

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