That same afternoon, the Wraith stepped out of the veil into the indigo forests of the Fair Lands. One of his Fair allies had left a note from another ally detailing His Majesty Silverthorn’s planned schedule over the next week, and with it a dirty, tattered jacket with another note that said, “Kobold, 2 hrs.”
The Wraith smiled as he pulled the jacket around his shoulders. Every time he wore a Fair glamour, he expected it to feel like something, but there was never any sensation other than wonder. His soft brown leather boots suddenly appeared larger and more worn. His tailored dove gray jacket and trousers appeared the dirty green and brown favored by kobolds resident in this part of the Fair Lands, and his hands appeared smaller and knobbier. He propped a tiny mirror against a tree trunk and examined the glamour for any flaws, unsurprised when he found none. Although he appeared slightly taller than most kobolds, the reflection indicated that he appeared considerably shorter than his true height, and nothing in his features or clothing was recognizable as human. His eyes sparkled a bright, malevolent yellow-green, and his smile revealed sharp, crooked teeth.
He studied the schedule, then folded it carefully and slipped it and the mirror into a jacket pocket.
He stepped back into the veil and set off into the lightless tunnel.
The veil had a strange, metallic scent for several minutes, and he hurried onward, not wanting to find out what that meant. Beneath his feet, the stone floor turned to loose, dry sand, and he slowed his pace, testing each step before putting his weight on the floor. When the ground changed again to a slippery damp substance that felt like decaying leaves beneath his boots, he stopped and put his hands against the wall. It felt like warm, polished wood, the faint grain barely perceptible beneath his fingertips. He pressed his magic into it and then continued a little farther.
He opened the door just a sliver, just enough to peek out to see that he was nearly within reach of the closest child, and not far from the others.
The children were dancing on a temporary wooden dance floor a few hundred feet from a Fair dwelling, something akin to a retreat at the foothills of the mountains just north of the Fair capital. The white spires and numerous windows sparkled in the clear Fair sunlight. A short distance to the Wraith’s left, three bored Fair guards played a game of chance that involved several bones and an enormous violet crystal that glittered with something like sentience.
The Wraith studied the scene for several minutes, noting the positions of the guards and the pattern of the dance as the children circled the floor again.
He slipped through the door without being seen and left it just cracked behind him. Quicker than thought, he pulled the nearest two children off the dance floor and shoved them through the door.
The guards did not immediately notice.
The Wraith snatched up a rock and flung it at the purple crystal, which exploded in a blinding flash of violet light and an exuberant roll of thunder that made the ground shudder beneath their feet.
The Fair guards cried out in pain and dismay, covering their eyes even as they stood and drew their swords. Half-blinded, they managed a creditable formation with their backs to each other.
The Wraith had hoped something would happen when the crystal was broken, but did not expect the light to be so bright, and he, too, was half-blinded. He strained to see through the sparkling afterimage of Fair magic and grasped the hands of the last two children. He pulled them off the dance floor and into the veil before the Fair guards had recovered.
In the utter darkness of the veil, the Wraith said quietly, “Don’t be afraid, children. I’m taking you back to the human world. Can you be brave a little longer?”
Little whispers answered him, and one young voice said, “Are you the Rose?”
“The Fair Folk call me that, yes. Our own people call me the Wraith. I will answer to either.” A smile made his voice warm and reassuring. “Are you able to walk?”
He clasped the hands of the two youngest children, and said, “Hold hands, please. Everyone stay together. The darkness is only a little dangerous, and we will be out of it soon. Tell me if anything frightens you.”
They murmured agreement again.
He led them unerringly through the darkness to the door back to the human world. “Here we are. You’ll be safe here.”