Midwinter

Satterly glanced back at Mauritane, who'd noticed Linda's approach and now was staring hard in her direction. "She says she wants me to go with her," said Satterly.

Mauritane's face was cold. "Go, find out what you can," he said. "We're having a bad time of it. I don't know how Hereg has survived so long in this cell."

Satterly nodded.

"Just reach around and undo the latch," Linda said, backing up. She turned to the young man. "Give me the Browning," she said. He scowled but reached into his coat and handed her a pistol without protest.

Satterly reached around and unhooked the latch, stepping carefully into the open clearing. Moonlight dyed the night a pale blue; it reflected from the snow at the forest's edge and caught in Linda's dark eyes.

"Come on," she said. "Let's talk."

She led him past the huts and continued walking, past the clearing and into the forest.

"See that hill over there?" she pointed.

Satterly nodded.

"That's where we're headed."

They walked in silence for a few seconds. Despite his confusion, Satterly felt comforted by Linda's presence. She was normal. She was a bridge back to the world he assumed he'd never see again. He imagined that if he were to lean in and smell her neck, he might begin to cry.

"I was elected to talk to you," she said, walking with her hands in the pockets of a too-large brown cloak. The butt of the pistol protruded alongside her right wrist. "I need you to understand a few things, and I want to know some things about you."

"Okay," Satterly said.

"Mainly, I want you to understand that we don't mean you any harm, not really. All we want is to get home. No one's going to get hurt if I have anything to say about it."

"That's fine, depending on how much say you have."

"I have almost enough." She scowled. "I need to know if you're willing to help us."

"I might be under different circumstances," Satterly said. "I don't appreciate being held prisoner. And my friends aren't doing so well in that cage of yours."

"We didn't… well, I didn't mean for that to happen. So, they are your friends then?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

"You're human, and you speak their language. We could use you to help us get back, and in return we'd be willing to take you with us. We just want to know what side you're on."

Satterly stopped short. "So you really have a way out of here?"

"Yes."

"I… I don't know. Most of the time I'm not even sure what I'm doing with those guys. I mean, I've been through a lot already with them, but… I don't know. Sometimes I don't even think they want me around."

"So you'll help us?"

Satterly thought. "I have to think. I said I'd go with them; we're on a mission, sort of."

"I can't tell you what to do," said Linda. "But we're leaving this place tomorrow, one way or the other. Like I said, I just don't want anyone to get hurt. If you help us, you can do whatever you want. Come with us, ride off with your Fae friends. I don't care. But I do know this: if you don't cooperate, Jim will force you. And I can't control him."

"I have a question," said Satterly. "Why didn't you just ask? Maybe we would have helped anyway. I don't understand why I would even need to choose sides."

"I guess Hereg hasn't explained the spell to you yet."

"No, not to me."

"The way I understand it, in order to create the way out, he needs the full premonition essence from a catalyst Fae. I have no idea what that means, but whatever it is, it's apparently quite painful."

"I see."

"Do you?" said Linda. She folded her arms across her chest. "Understand, Mister Satterly. Your companion might very well die tomorrow. There's nothing you can do about it. I didn't want it to happen this way, but there it is."

Satterly raised his voice. "You keep saying that things aren't the way you want them, so why don't you do something about it instead of forcing it all on me?"

"Because I was outvoted, Mister Satterly. I have children, and the people who outvoted me have guns. And they don't really like me very much as it is. That's my reality."

He followed her up a steep wooded trail. Halfway up the hillside, she stopped and walked away from the trail, beckoning him to follow. Something metal glinted in the filtered moonlight. A truck.

"What the hell?" said Satterly. It was a flatbed truck, mostly buried in drifting snow but recognizable. The bed of the truck held a number of open containers filled with metal rods in varying quantities.

"That explains the rebar everywhere," Satterly said.

"This stuff has saved our lives a dozen times," she said. "It's strong, it's durable, and the Fae avoid it like the plague."

"How did this thing get here?" said Satterly, baffled.

"I'm getting to that," said Linda.

They continued up the hill. Farther along, a yellow tow truck was wrapped around the trunk of a stout pine, its exposed edges mottled with old rust.