A thin, raspy voice slips out from inside the strange little house.
"Come on. Step inside."
My heart slams against my ribs.
I turn toward my friends, startled.
They're tense too—alert, focused, already bracing for a fight.
"Can't you hear me? Come on. Hurry up."
Asher doesn't wait.
He's already by the door, shooting us an impatient look that clearly says: Well? Are you coming or not?
Standing here frozen makes no sense.
So we move toward him.
Careful. On edge.
How on earth is he so calm?
His danger threshold must be below zero.
He's already inside.
We follow.
Grogher is about to kneel and peek in—just like he did at Asher's place—when suddenly the door grows huge.
The whole house lifts, stretches, expands in an incredible way…
All just so he can walk in comfortably.
Grogher freezes, wide-eyed.
I've never seen him this stunned.
Inside, we're hit by a warm, enveloping scent of herbs, mixed with the comforting steam of something bubbling in a cauldron.
I'm almost embarrassed to admit it, but…
we really needed this.
It's freezing outside.
The room is lit by hundreds of candles.
Only candles.
And there, at the far end—sunk deep into an armchair—sits a little old woman.
She's plump and graceful, with deep violet eyes that shine like polished gemstones.
Her features are beautiful…
Is she really the infamous gnome commander?
Witch Fheall?
She looks at us and beams.
"At last. I've been expecting you. The smoke warned me."
I smile back instinctively.
Maybe a bit too awkwardly.
I glance at the others.
They look just as baffled as I feel.
I mean—we were expecting a battle-hardened veteran.
Scars. Missing eye. Lean, creaky bones.
Instead… this elderly lady looks like anything but a former general.
And honestly?
She looks way younger than her centuries.
She barely has any wrinkles.
A large black bat with a fuchsia bow tosses her a ladle.
She springs out of the armchair with surprising agility, catches it mid-air, and heads straight for the cauldron.
"Thanks, Rerè! Would you like some flower infusion? Maybe a few sweets?" she asks, filling the ladle.
So that bubbling thing is tea?
"You know, no one ever visits me. So in the end, I have to eat all my delicious pastries by myself! They're so good! But… hehe… they do make me gain a bit of weight. Luckily, every now and then, Ceatha and the others help me finish them."
"Who's Ceatha?" I ask, curious.
"My dragon, of course! Who else?"
"Right. Of course. Who else," I echo.
Because obviously—who doesn't drink herbal tea and eat pastries with dragons and bats?
Totally normal.
She's amazing.
And she doesn't seem dangerous at all.
"Well… it's n-not exactly easy to f-find you, Master Fheall," Grogher says politely.
"And why ever not, Sir Grogher?" she replies. "In any case, loosen your grip on that spiked staff and relax. I don't like hurting my guests."
Right.
She knows who we are too.
Impressive.
Grogher turns crimson and clasps his hands behind his back like an embarrassed child.
"The road here is rather treacherous," Asher says smoothly, pretending nothing's happening.
She stares at him as if he's just said the most ridiculous thing imaginable.
"Treacherous? Oh, my dear boys… not at all! You just leap into the void, and the wind carries you where you need to go in a second! The rest is just… scenery. Come, I'll show you!"
What is she doing now?
She dashes out of the house, incredibly fast.
We rush after her.
We're outside.
By all the clouds—what is she doing?!
She jumps?!
"Ma'am, stop! You'll die!" I scream.
Dorcha and Grogher sprint toward the cliff, trying to grab her—but they're too late.
Before our stunned eyes, a powerful wind rises, wraps around her as she laughs, and gently sets her back down on the doorstep.
The moment she lands, bats swarm around her, showering her with… affectionate little licks?
I nearly black out and collapse to the ground, gasping for air.
She laughs like a lunatic.
"See? Isn't it fun?" she says cheerfully, petting the little creatures.
"So," she adds from the doorway, "do you want that infusion or not?"
And she walks back inside.
"Yes, please," I say, following her.
The others come with me.
I can hear their breathing—rhythms I've learned to recognize by now.
They were all badly shaken.
Even Asher.
In front of the gnome's armchair, four chairs appear out of nowhere—one of them a massive throne, clearly meant for Grogher—and a round table.
As soon as we sit, Fheall snaps her fingers.
The table sets itself in an instant.
Four steaming cups of herbal tea.
The cauldron reshaped into a delicate porcelain cup just for Grogher.
Sugar cubes—plenty of them.
Pastries.
And even a cake.
An enormous one.
Drenched in whipped cream and chocolate.
She rubs her hands together, delighted, then grabs a knife and cuts herself a generous slice.
"Ohhh, this is divine! Help yourselves, don't be shy!" she says, already taking her first bite.
I can't help laughing—she's shamelessly greedy.
It feels good to relax for once, so we accept the invitation and fill our plates and cups without restraint.
Grogher's plate makes my chest tighten.
But it's his expression that really gets me.
His eyes shine.
Overwhelmed. Moved.
I think it's the first time in a very long while that he's had a truly satisfying meal.
Not crumbs.
Real food.
At the first bite, a tear slides down his cheek.
The gnome turns away, pretending not to notice—
but I catch the smile.
And in that moment, I understand why she's friends with Baelkers and Aeltiàfisar.
She's wonderful.
-----
"Fealsy, you study Magical Arts—enlighten us," Yosho says.
"If Meg were to give in to the curse—"
"Don't even think about it! I won't do it!" I almost shout.
How can he even suggest it?
I won't. Ever.
"I said if," he insists. "So—hypothetically—how would it even work? She's trapped down here. It wouldn't be possible anyway, right?"
Right…
Fealsy takes a moment before answering.
He's serious—like he always is when something complicated is coming.
"I believe it's all connected," he says at last.
"Meaning?" I ask.
"A while ago, I read about a curse very similar to this one. If that's the case… it doesn't matter that Asher isn't here with us. Majory would first have to accept it. Choose to sacrifice him. And when—if—she does, a magical current would bring him here. Right in front of her. And then…"
"Wait!" I cut in. "If it's a magical current… maybe it would only summon his image. Not him in flesh and blood. Right?"
Please.
Please tell me that's how it works.
But Fealsy shakes his head.
And my heart drops.
"No," he says quietly. "It would really be him."
"So that's it?" Donny snaps, turning on me. "You decide. He shows up. You kill him. Simple. Linear. So what are you waiting for? Go on. Do it! Then we can finally go home!"
I can't take it anymore.
This has to stop.
"How can you even think like that? Simple? Linear? How am I supposed to kill Asher?! I can't even think something like that! I wouldn't be able to kill anyone—let alone a spineless coward like you!"
His expression hardens.
Cold. Ruthless.
He looks like a different person.
"Aren't you already doing it?" he says calmly. "Not just to me. To all of us."
Assho steps up beside him, silent and severe.
He looks at me like he wants to hurt me.
"He's right," he says. "How can you even consider it? So go on—don't kill Asher. Keep doing exactly what you're doing. Keep clinging to your pathetic indecision. Let us all starve down here. That way, your precious conscience can stay clean."
Maybe it's the strange calm in their voices.
Or the way they say it.
Or simply the truth behind the words—
—but they hit me like punches straight to the chest.
The others fall silent, unable to step in.
Probably because, for the first time,
what Donny and Assho are saying…
is what everyone is thinking.
I lower my gaze.
I feel like a worm.
They're right.
Day after day, I'm leading them to their deaths.
Gready still has a few biscuits left—
we've been rationing them carefully—
but today will be our last meal.
A quarter of a biscuit each.
Then nothing.
Sure, we have all the water we want.
But water isn't enough.
If I don't make a decision soon…
this really will be the end.
-----
The cake really was good.
And the tea too.
We needed a break like that, after everything.
I wipe my mouth with… a napkin shaped like a pink lace doily.
Ridiculous.
That's when I notice the gnome is watching us, waiting patiently for everyone to finish.
The moment Asher swallows his last bite, she looks up.
"Very well. Now that your bellies are full, my dear ones, tell me why you've come."
Aileen speaks.
Clear. Precise. She leaves nothing out.
"…and that's everything," she concludes.
The gnome's large, deep eyes seem to pierce straight through us.
She stays silent for a moment.
Then she sighs heavily and stands, pacing back and forth across the room.
Thoughtful, she lifts a finger.
The empty cups and plates rise into the air, drift toward the sink, and begin washing themselves.
Then she turns back to us.
"My dear children, I fear you've made this journey in vain. Once cast, that curse cannot be undone. Only Majory herself can overcome it. No one else."
"And how?" Asher asks, uneasy. "By killing me… or someone else?"
He doesn't sound afraid of dying.
It sounds more like he's afraid of disappointing the Princess.
Honestly—if I were her, I wouldn't want that either.
Fheall smiles at him.
She must have caught the nuance.
"The matter of killing… is merely a trial," she says.
Then she sits again.
"You must understand—Princess Majory, five hundred years ago, was a dreadful creature. Her heart was black in a way one rarely encounters."
Like mine…
The gnome laughs and looks straight at me.
"You have no idea what you're saying, Dorcha. Compared to her, you're a frightened little rabbit. From the cradle, she revealed herself to be a deeply cruel child. Her parents grew more worried with each passing day. Her people feared her. And they despised her."
"Why?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"Because it amused her. Let me give you an example—this one will do. It was her fifth birthday. That same day, her cousin was born as well. Same age. Same birthday. So, as they did every year, the parents decided to hold a shared celebration. But she was jealous of the attention he received. She wanted the party, the cake, the gifts—all of it—for herself."
"That's understandable, isn't it?" Aileen says softly. "She was just a child. Having to share your birthday every year… well, that can't be easy. I think I would've been jealous too."
Fheall looks at her.
"For that reason… would you have killed your cousin?"
Aileen goes pale.
"W–what? No!"
"Exactly. She did. She threw him into a well and passed it off as an accident. Then she laughed. Delighted to have rid herself of him."
We fall into stunned silence.
The picture is starting to come together.
"That was only one of the many atrocities that wretched child committed. When, as a young woman, she imprisoned that poor man… it wasn't out of love. She didn't even know what love was. She did it out of spite. Because he didn't want her—and therefore, he couldn't belong to her. The pattern was always the same: what I want, I take.At any cost. It doesn't matter how. If I can't have it, no one will."
"My Majory isn't like that!" Asher shouts hoarsely.
Fheall places a hand gently on his knee.
"I know, young Asher. I know. When I cast that curse, I knew that Majory would never be able to break it. That was the punishment for her cruelty—and justice for those she had tormented. It was her own parents who begged me to intervene. They couldn't endure her any longer. They were terrified of her. She nearly killed them as well. And that day… they were truly afraid. All of us were. Had the sovereigns died and she taken the throne, it would have meant the end of the Realm of the Two Rainbows."
"We knew nothing of this," I say quietly.
"Of course not. The history books were ordered to tell only part of the truth. Still… I thought about it for a long time. I asked myself whether it made sense to deal only with her. Whether it was truly the right choice. Cruelty often runs in families. What if another princess like her had been born? I wanted to ensure that no other Majory would ever toy with people's lives. Perhaps I was wrong—but at the time, I believed I was doing what was best. And so I cursed the future female heirs as well."
Asher's eyes shine with tears. He looks lost.
Fheall watches him with tenderness.
"There is good news. The curse can be overcome by one who knows how to love. Your Majory need only follow her instincts and her feelings. I am certain she will obtain everything she desires. You must simply wait. Remember this: the true strength of love lies in choice, not in sacrifice."
She stands.
"Now go. After such a pleasant little feast, I find myself in need of rest. And besides… your animals are waiting for you."
She exhales sharply in our direction.
So fast that I don't even realize what's happening.
I'm not doing anything.
A flash of light engulfs us.
I open my eyes.
Where are we?
We look around.
The clearing behind the gnomes' castle.
The animals are with us.
Now…
all we can do is wait.