Theo appeared to have a sixth sense when it came to being followed. As he randomly turned down dark alleyways, Caelin frequently lost sight of him before struggling to find him again.

“What is he, a monkey?” Caelin muttered darkly to herself as she jumped over another trashcan behind another building. “Why is he bobbing and weaving everywhere?”

Caelin emerged onto a bustling main street. Multiple merchants gestured towards her to peruse their exotic wares, and an aroma of oil and spices clung to the air. Sireine’s night market had begun.

Looking around her, Caelin failed to find a shadow of Theo’s figure amidst the crowds. She had to move on to her backup plan.

“Excuse me,” Caelin said, approaching a stall selling deep fried sticks of dough. “I’m looking for a place called ‘End of the Line’. Could you point me to it?” 

The woman sprinkling sugar and cinnamon onto the sticks shook her head after a moment of contemplation. “There’s no such place called that, miss.” 

“No, there has to be,” Caelin insisted. “They sell drinks, so I’m assuming it’s like a bar or tavern or pub or restaurant?”

The woman shook her head at all of the places. “I’ve never heard of it, but maybe it just opened…” She paused, appearing deep in thought. “Yesterday?”  

“Forget it, but thanks anyways,” Caelin sighed and walked away. She hadn’t expected it before, but she could only assume that Landen and Theo had a secret code. Although it only fueled her curiosity more, Caelin also had no idea where Theo had gone. She decided to try another dingy alleyway and hoped that she would soon find Theo again. 

“Pardon me, young lady,” a voice sounded from behind her.

Turning around, Caelin faced an old woman with her silvery hair pinned up into a bun, adorned by seashells and wildflowers. She possessed striking, pale blue eyes amidst a face of wrinkles, sagging skin, and a plain brown dress. When Caelin glanced down, she noticed that the old woman was barefoot, though her feet were surprisingly clean despite walking along the dirt-covered streets. 

“Were you talking to me just now?” Caelin asked politely. 

The old woman smiled a toothless grin. “Yes, I was. What strange, beautiful eyes you have. May I borrow your eyes to help me find something that I’ve lost?” 

“No,” Caelin said simply, returning the grin. “But you may tell me what you’re looking for, and perhaps, I might help you search for it.”

The old woman’s grin faltered slightly. “How polite of you. Then will you lend an ear to an old woman’s troubles, kind child?”

“No,” Caelin said again. “If you don’t have anything to say to me, then leave.”

The old woman cleared her throat. “May I at least have your name, rude child?” 

“No, you may not,” Caelin said, holding back her laughter. “But my friends call me Bellona.”

The old woman scowled fiercely, forgoing all feigned pleasantries. Her words dripped with spite. “Well, Bellona, you have something of mine in that right pocket of yours, and I’d like it back.” 

Caelin reached into her jacket pocket and took out two items: the recording pen and the fae-stone. 

“Yes!” The old woman’s eyes gleamed as she stared at the fae-stone in Caelin’s palm. “It’s mine!” She lunged forward with a speed faster than a human, not to mention an old woman, to snatch away the fae-stone. 

Caelin jerked her hand away but wasn’t fast enough as the old woman's sharp nails grazed her palm. Instead of taking the fae-stone, however, the old woman suddenly leapt back with a shriek and clutched her hand. There was a bright red burn mark on her fingers. She glared spitefully at Caelin’s hand. 

“How dare you carry such a foul thing so close to my stone,” the old woman hissed. 

Caelin held up the pen. “You mean this?” She moved forward to poke the old woman with it.

The old woman hurriedly backed out of Caelin’s reach. 

Caelin appraised the pen in her hand. Though she wasn’t exactly sure why, it turned out to be even more useful than anticipated. 

“Alright then, old hag,” Caelin said, wielding the pen threateningly. “May I have your name?” 

The old woman spat on the ground before her. “How rude of you to try to use fae tricks against one. You may call me Deirdre.”

“Okay, Deirdre, let’s make a deal,” Caelin proposed. “What will you give me in exchange for this stone?”

Deirdre instantly smiled at the mention of a deal. “I could give you a mountain of gold.”

“No,” Caelin instantly said. She was well-aware of the tales of fae gold turning into a pile of dirt once the bargain was complete. 

Deirdre grounded her teeth in frustration. “What do you want? Eternal life? Extraordinary powers?”

“Your first-born child?” Caelin suggested.

“Oh you dreadful human,” Deirdre complained. Pausing in her lament, the fae stared slyly at Caelin. “I know what you want. I saw you following that man so closely until you lost him. How about I give you his love?”

“I don’t want that.” Caelin shook her head.

“I give you his hatred?” 

“I don’t want that either!”

Deirdre tilted her head to one side, confused. “I don’t comprehend your relationship with him.”

“Forget it,” Caelin sighed and pocketed the pen. She tossed the fae-stone towards the old woman, who hastily caught it with both hands. “This isn’t fun anymore. Let’s just say you owe me a favor now.”

“Wait!” Deirdre called from behind before Caelin could leave the alleyway. The fae waved the stone around angrily. “What trickery are you trying to pull here? Where’s the rest of it?”

“What do you mean?” Caelin asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “It was already like that when I found it.” 

“There should’ve been some accessories as well,” Deirdre insisted. 

“Like what?” Caelin demanded, skeptical.

“The flight of a bird as dark as night, a wound that gleams as pale as snow, and butterfly food as red as blood,” Deirdre recited solemnly.

“That doesn’t rhyme,” Caelin said pointedly. 

“Not all riddles have to rhyme,” Deirdre snapped. “Where is the rest?”

Caelin shrugged. “Like I said, there was only a stone when I bought it.”

“Then lend me your hands to help me find the rest,” Deirdre said. 

“No.” Caelin turned to leave again. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Deirdre said desperately and rushed in front of Caelin, blocking her path. “If you help me, I’ll give you something that can help you follow that man undetected. Yes, that’s what you want, right?”

“Shouldn’t you already give me that since I gave you that stone back?” Caelin said, raising an eyebrow.

“Ah, but I never agreed to the deal when you handed it over,” Deirdre cackled. “So what’ll it be?”

“I’ll try to help you find the items in that poorly written riddle,” Caelin acquiesced. “In exchange, you present me with help to follow someone undetected, and I’ll decide whether I actually want it after I ask you a few questions about it. Deal?”

“No exchanges allowed if you decide you don’t want it,” Deirdre warned.

“Fine,” Caelin agreed.

“We have a deal then.” Deirdre extended a wrinkly hand, and Caelin shook it.

“So does it matter what the specific item is, or anything is fine so long as it fulfills the riddles’ requirements?” Caelin asked, strolling through the night market with Deirdre. “And if there’s multiple of the item, will any of them work or only one of them?”

“You’ll know it’s the right thing when the stone reacts to it,” Deirdre said vaguely.

“Reacts?” Caelin repeated. “What does that mean?”

“You’ll see it, Bellona,” Deirdre said with her toothless smile.

“The flight of a bird as dark as night?” Caelin muttered to herself. She approached a stall that sold a variety of taxidermied, common animals. While the merchant had his back turned, she ripped out a feather from a raven’s wing. Caelin held out the feather against the fae-stone in Deirdre’s hand. 

The celadon green streaks in the stone began to faintly glow as the feather appeared to move on its own, tying itself around the stone, through the hole in the center. After a few seconds, the fae-stone ceased glowing, and the feather appeared to become a new part of it.

“I guess that worked,” Caelin observed.

“I told you that you would be able to know,” Deirdre said smugly.

“Do I get unlimited attempts?” Caelin asked, approaching a stall selling fresh animal produce. She held up an egg and then a bottle of milk to the fae-stone. Nothing happened. “I’ll take that as a yes then. Let me borrow that for a second.”

“W-what are you doing?” Deirdre asked in confusion as Caelin took the fae-stone and began holding it up to every single white or red colored item. 

“Rather than doing nothing while attempting to solve the riddle, I thought I might as well simultaneously be productive in a different way,” Caelin explained, moving onto holding the fae-stone above a variety of sticky rice cake desserts imported from the celestials’ realm. “There didn’t appear to be any adverse reactions when I tested the wrong thing just now, so there’s no harm in just trying everything.”

Deirdre was at a loss for words, looking onto the scene. “But that just feels so…sacrilegious.”

“I got one!” Caelin cheered, holding up the fae-stone with a sparkling white pearl that fit perfectly into the hole in the center. She had found it at a stall that allowed people to crack open oysters to look for pearls as well as a few already discovered pearls for sale. 

“Hold up there, miss,” a rough voice said as the stall’s merchant held Caelin’s shoulder, stopping her from leaving. “You have to pay for that pearl.”

“Of course,” Caelin said agreeably and handed over 20 cuprus. The bag of money she had taken from Alice was growing lighter at a rate faster than she had anticipated. Caelin needed the mission to finish sooner otherwise she’d have to start asking Lilac to pay for her food.

“I can’t believe that actually worked,” Deirdre said, looking at her stone in shock as she caught up to Caelin.

“Just one more left,” Caelin said optimistically. “We’re doing pretty well, aren’t we? It hasn’t even been half an hour yet.” 

“The last one is usually the hardest one,” Deirdre sniffed. 

“Right, so I should probably ask someone else for help.” Caelin nodded in agreement. “There wasn’t any rule against that in the riddle, right?”

“Well, no, not exactly,” Deirdre said hesitantly. 

 “Great, let me try asking there,” Caelin said, pointing to a flower stall. “Butterflies can eat the nectar from flowers after all.” 

“Wait for me,” Deirdre cried as she hurried after Caelin.

“Good evening,” Caelin said pleasantly to the group of ladies who worked behind the flower stall. She glanced over the various flower arrangements and bouquets before her. The fae-stone didn’t appear to be reacting to any of the red flowers. “I’m trying to solve this riddle—it’s a long story—but do any of you know what sort of flower could be ‘as red as blood’?”

“There’s many types of flowers that are red,” one of the ladies said, gesturing to the bouquets for sale. 

“Maybe the focus is more on the ‘blood’ part?” Caelin suggested. “Is there any flower that has to do with blood? Maybe some legends about it?”

“There is a type of flowering milkweed that is sometimes referred to as ‘bloodflower’,” another lady said with a thoughtful look. “The Asclepias curassavica. It has red petals too.”

“That’s a start,” Caelin said. “Do you sell some?”

“No,” the first lady laughed. “But there’s some planted around the plaza. Keep heading down that way and make a right at the corner with the bronze pegasus. You’ll see it. It’s hard to miss with a giant fountain sculpture in the center.”  

“Thanks,” Caelin said and started towards where the flower stall lady directed her. 

There was indeed a large fountain with the stone sculpture of a female siren and a male sailor in the plaza. Caelin and Deirdre found the milkweed plant growing along the edges of the plaza. It was a little over a meter tall with clumps of tiny red flowers growing near the top. Holding the fae-stone close to the plant, Caelin watched one of the flowers slowly fuse itself onto the side of the stone. 

“It’s done,” Caelin said, showing it to the fae. 

Deirdre giggled giddily and danced around the plaza in celebration before reaching for the fae-stone. “Give it to me now.”

Caelin held the fae-stone away and pulled out the recording pen in a threatening manner again. “Not just yet. Show me the reward you had promised me first.”

“Oh fae-locks,” Deirdre grumbled.