The black sky had turned blue before Eibhlin found the fairy door. She and Melaioni had traveled in silence, following the needle downriver to a tall stone. Hidden behind the grass at its base was a keyhole lined with the same golden light that had jumped out from the compass. Eibhlin took the key from the chain and turned the lock. The keyhole let out its brief burst of light, but the crystal key did not, itself, diminish. After returning the key to the chain, Eibhlin stepped forward. The pull beyond the door felt much stronger on this road, but she felt stronger as well and withstood the force without much difficulty. In what could have been hours or days, she arrived on the other side of the road.

The crash of ocean waves filled the air, and she found herself standing in a cave, the slowly retreating tide lapping at her feet. Weariness came over her, and she picked a spot above the waterline to lie down and fell asleep. When she woke, the sun had reached midafternoon, and the heat pressed against her skin even in the shade of the cave.

“Good afternoon, Milady,” said Melaioni, sitting against the rock wall with her bag.

After returning the greeting and taking a stretch, Eibhlin noticed the light still shining from the compass, the needle still pointing to a light-lined keyhole cut into a section of rock still damp from the receding tide. She frowned.

“Do you worry about the light?” asked the kithara.

“Well, I don’t want people staring at me because I have a glowing compass hanging from my neck,” said Eibhlin. “But I didn’t ask Yashul how to make it stop.”

“Oh, why, that is a simple task, Milady. Just take the key and-”

“Wait. Don’t tell me. I can figure it out. I’d have to anyway if we hadn’t run into each other,” she said. But after flipping the compass cover up and down, searching its surface, and general fiddling, she still wasn’t sure what to do.

“Milady, if I may—”

“Don’t worry. I can—”

“Milady,” said Melaioni, “did you not want to complete your quest swiftly?”

Eibhlin looked down at the instrument. With a sigh, she said, “Okay. A hint. Give me a hint, and if I still can’t figure it out, then tell me.”

“Very well, Milady. Consider this: it may be to a compass, but it is also a lock.”

“Also a lock… oh!”

Eibhlin picked up her key, placed it in the compass, and turned it the opposite direction as before. It gave its chiming click, and the needle faded back to plain metal and swiveled back to north. The light around the fairy door’s keyhole scattered, and the compass returned to its unassuming appearance. Eibhlin smiled.

Meanwhile, the kithara said, “Now, Milady, I advise you to keep that compass on your chain with that key. It is fairy-woven, correct? There is no safer place in the Realms, Mortal or Fae, for them than upon that chain. Well, then, shall we go, Milady? And as we go, please tell me your story thus far.”

“But I swore to Yashul that I would never tell anyone about what happened last night,” said Eibhlin.

“Are those the exact words?” said Melaioni. “The words used matter when it comes to contracts and magic and their combination. Think carefully.”

Eibhlin recalled the events, the exchange, and her promise, trying to remember every detail she could. Finally, she said, “I promised to never tell 'another breathing soul’ what was said and done.”

Melaioni replied, “I thought as much. Lady Yashul is a prudent woman. I am sure it is no coincidence that one of my titles is ‘The Poet That Has Never Drawn Breath.’ Carry on, Milady.”

The sun shone bright and hot as Eibhlin and Melaioni traveled along the beach, and Eibhlin scolded herself for sleeping through, rather than using, the cooler morning air. For a couple miles, they met no one, but they heard the murmur of sound above the sea and birds. Eventually they saw people walking and riding along the land above the sand. At last, rounding a bend, they saw in the distance a fleet of white sails surrounding a city. White walls with large gates stood between the ships and the tiered buildings, and dark masses gathered at the gates. The sight gave Eibhlin new strength, and they reached the gate and its hoards as the last rays of light glittered on the ocean.

So many people! There was so much movement and talking and shouting and hustling and bustling and too many things for Eibhlin to take in. It was as if all the merchant trains had visited her town and tried to fit into its square all at once. The city sat on an island and had only one land road in, a road quickly thinning as the tide rose, and the tightening crowds seemed to press the air from her lungs.

“There are so many!” she gasped, and she could barely hear her own voice over the noise. As she pushed through the crowd, she tried to keep in mind Melaioni’s advice.

“It is nearly time to close the gates for the night,” it had said as they approached the crowd. “There will be many trying to enter or leave Leukosica, to leave this city before that happens. You are merely a passerby, a visitor, not a member of a guild or a merchant train here on business or a noble on a diplomatic visit, nor are you staying here for long, so you do not require any official papers. Just announce yourself to the city’s customs agent, giving your status as para. He will understand and will probably just jot down a pass and wave you through, but I still suggest you keep your head down to avoid unnecessary questions that could make you miss curfew.”

With these words in her mind, she now stumbled through the crowd, people jostling her from every side. Her heart pressed against her ribs as she approached the gates. It looked like a mouth waiting to swallow her. She only began to relax after receiving her pass and leaving the shadow of the gate and its portcullis teeth. On the other side, the crowd dispersed, and her breath returned. She looked around.