"I'm? I didn't? I thought?" Corny shouted at him. His face was suddenly too hot. Then his stomach clenched. He barely had time to turn before retching up chunks of old mushrooms.
Predictably, Luis had been right about the cakes.
An owl's yellow eyes caught the moonlight, making Kaye jump. She'd given up on calling Corny's name and was now just trying to find her way back to the revel. Each time she turned toward the music, it seemed to be coming from another direction.
"Lost?" said a voice, and she jumped. It was a man with greenish-gold hair and white moth wings that folded across his bare back.
"Kind of," Kaye said. "I don't suppose you could point me the way?”
He nodded and pointed one finger to the left and the other to the right.
"Hilarious." Kaye folded her arms across her chest.
"Both ways would bring you to the revel eventually. One would just take quite a bit longer." He smiled. "Tell me your name and I'll tell you which is better.”
"Okay" she said. "Kaye.”
"That's not your real name." His smile was teasing. "I bet you don't even know it.”
"It's probably safer that way." She looked into a dense copse of trees. Nothing seemed familiar.
"But someone must know it, mustn't they? Someone who gave it to you?”
"Maybe no one gave me a name. Maybe I'm supposed to name myself.”
"They say that nameless things change constantly—that names fix them in place like pins. But without a name, a thing isn't quite real either. Maybe you're not a real thing.”
"I'm real," Kaye said.
"You know a name that isn't yours, though, don't you? A true name. A silver pin that could stick a King in place.”
His tone was light, but the muscles in Kaye's shoulders tensed. "I told Silarial that I wouldn't use it. I won't.”
"Really?" He cocked his head to the side, looking oddly like a bird. "And you wouldn't trade it for another life? A mortal mother? A feckless friend?”
"Are you threatening me? Is Silarial threatening me?" She stepped back from him.
"Not yet," he said with a laugh.
"I'll find my own way back," she mumbled, and headed off, not sure where she was going and not caring.
The trees were heavy with impossible summer leaves, and the earth was warm and fragrant, but the woods were as still as stone. Even the wind seemed dead. Kaye walked on, faster and faster, until she came to a stream pitted with rocks. A squat figure crouched near the water, the brambles and branches of her hair making her look like a barren bush.
"You!" Kaye gasped. "What are you doing here?”
"I am sure," the Thistle witch said, her black eyes shining, "you have better questions for me than that.”
"I don't want any more riddles," Kaye said, and her voice broke. She sat down on the wet bank, not caring about the water soaking her skirt. "Or eggshells or quests.”
The Thistlewitch reached out a long, lanky arm to pat Kaye with fingers that felt as rough as wood. "Poor little pixie. Come and rest your head on my shoulder.”
"I don't even know what side you're on." Kaye groaned, but she scooted over and leaned against the faery's familiar bulk. "I'm not sure how many sides there are. I mean, is this like a piece of paper with two sides or like one of those weird dice that Corny has with twenty sides? And if there are really twenty sides, then is anyone on my side?”
"Clever girl," the Thistlewitch said approvingly.
"Come on, that made no sense. Isn't there anything you can tell me? About anything?”
"You already know what you need and you need what you know.”