Eibhlin returned to the inn right before sunset, when the solemnity of Holy Day lifted with festivity. Pubs and taverns flowed with free—or in less pious establishments, cheaper—drink, and laughter echoed in the evening air. The innkeeper’s wife beamed as Eibhlin’s entered, and the girl could barely finish dinner before the master of the house asked her to make good on her promise. Late into the night she sang and played for the packed inn. Epics, tragedies, comedies, bar songs, even a few requested hymns, Eibhlin no longer needed Mel to guide her fingers for some of them, except on more advanced bars, and her own voice rang out and above the others. Morning found several men still sleeping across the tables and chairs and floor. Most had gone home during the night, and those few who remained either had no wife or had forgotten to fear her during the singing and camaraderie forged by drink and song. The master and his wife were slipping between tables, cleaning what they could, when Eibhlin emerged from her room, tired but packed and ready.

The wife looked at Eibhlin’s bag. She asked, “Did ye find what you were looking for?”

“Yes,” said Eibhlin, who felt the keys tingling against her skin.

“Then ye’re going now?”

“I can’t stay.”

“Ye won’t tell us anything?”

Eibhlin only smiled and shook her head.

“Well, at least come by and play for us every now an’ again,” said the woman, her husband giving a gruff second.

Eibhlin addressed the innkeeper, “Before I leave, here’s the cost for last night. I forgot to pay it before.”

The master shook his head. “Last night’s music was enough. Best ye get goin’. Gonna be a scorcher today.”

Eibhlin stared at the older couple and saw a shine in their eyes that was somehow familiar and, like Vi’s voice the day before, filled her with sorrow and longing. “Okay. Thank you,” she said. “If I ever make it back here, I’ll definitely stop by.”

She waved at the two as she walked through the still-waking streets. That last morning in the city felt just like her first, she realized. She had come, played an enchanted instrument, met a fae, nearly lost her life, and now had a second fairy key. A lot had changed. And yet nothing had. The next day, everything returned to how it always had been.

“I’m pretty unimportant, aren’t I?” she murmured.

“How so, Milady?”

“Well, it’s just, growing up in a town like mine, everyone is important. Something changes for one person, and sometimes it’s almost like everything changes. But here? Here, it doesn’t matter what sorts of adventures you have. Travelers come; travelers go. Everything goes on as normal,” she said.

“Hmm. Yes. Such can be the case with towns and cities. The more people you have around you, the more distant you become and the more insignificant you feel. Though I would hesitate to say the latter is as true as the former. As the saying goes, a single gust can change the aim of a thousand arrows. Do not overestimate your existence, but do not take it for granted, either,” said the instrument.

They passed through the gate by midmorning, and Eibhlin wandered a bit away from the city, making sure she was out of sight, before sliding the key into the compass face. She turned it, the lock clicked, and the ribbon of light shot out and away quicker than thought. Eibhlin took a leisurely pace in following.

Surf pounded against sand, and the salty wind played with her hair and clothes without obstructive crowds or invasive scents. The girl removed her shoes and felt the sand melt beneath her feet at the ocean’s summons. “Come home,” it said. “Come home.”

Not yet.

Soon. But not yet.

For now, she chased that golden thread along the border of the world.

The compass led to the cave where she had arrived from the elven country. However, the needle pointed through the black, deeper into the cave.

“Keep the keys out,” Mel told her. “They will give some light.”

Eibhlin took out the keys, and their glow looked like twin stars inside that cave, creating a small area of light in front of her. She journeyed into the dark. Down, down they went, leaving both day and night behind. Here in the cave, neither sun nor moon existed, only the stars shining upon Eibhlin’s chest. Sound vanished except for the scuffle of shoe on stone. The smell of the sea lingered, but the walls felt dry. The ocean would not reach that part of the cave for several more hours, if it did at all. In the meantime, they went down, down, down through the earth.

And the deeper they went, the longer they passed through unchanging darkness, the more unnerved Eibhlin became. The sun. She had never known before how much she loved the sun. Not until knowing that darkness pressing around her. She held the keys tightly, as though they were candles in danger of going out. So long as the keys stayed alight, the darkness could not touch her. They would keep her safe. Safe until the ascent, when she could return to the sun.

But down they still went. Deeper and deeper. Down into darkness and silence.

“I wonder why she put two doors in one cave,” Eibhlin whispered.

“Most likely for convenience,” the kithara said quietly. “Fairy doors can only connect like things, such as a rock by water with another rock by water. If she has two destinations she can link in the same area, it saves time looking for another match.”

“That sounds so troublesome,” said Eibhlin.

Eibhlin imagined the instrument shrugging as it said, “Not really. The hardest part is keeping track of what ‘like things’ means between materials. For instance, with wood, geography does not matter, as it does with stone, but it must be the same kind of tree, such as two beech trees. When problems really start is when inattentive people of any race or nation accidentally use a fairy’s door in their crafts. Indeed, there are more fairy doors just sitting in their homes than people realize. It can be a source of either amusement or consternation, depending on the fairy, neither of which tends to lead to good results. Not to mention when the unwitting owner accidentally falls through the door. Trust me, Milady, when I say the crafting of a fairy door is the least troublesome part about it.”

The two fell back into silence, and the darkness continued hugging their light, sneaking into Eibhlin’s heart, filling the silence with its terrible whispers.

Just then, Eibhlin slipped. She dropped to the cave floor, and Melaioni scraped against the wall and hit the floor with a sickening sound. Eibhlin hurriedly brought the kithara into her line of sight, her voice echoing in the gloom. “Mel! Are you all right?”