Callum slowly opened a door to a dark hall and glanced inside. Apparently satisfied, he pulled out his oil lamp and lit it, motioning for Eibhlin to follow.

His voice became a strained whisper, “What does it matter how he does it or why? No matter what foul tricks he employs, he only condemns himself further. He has fully abandoned the duty he swore to keep when he became Father Abbot, sold his responsibility to a defiler of both Realms, and with his actions afterwards, he has exchanged the road of angels for the path of demons! He deserves to suffer for eternity within the eighth circle, tortured and made sport of by the very demons he heeded!” Brother Callum then gave a sad sigh. “We of the order can’t even stop him. The tree prevents us from leaving. Only the abbot and those who have come after its planting can come and go as they please. We are protected from dangers from without, natural and monstrous, but what good are we if we cannot protect others from the danger from within?”

By now, Callum spoke in choked sobs. Eibhlin stood behind the man, a tangle of fear and sadness. “You’re helping me,” she said.

Callum shook his head. “One of the few, the very few. Abbot Ormulf thinks none resist him any longer. In fact, for a few years, no one even knew his secret, so were we, too, deceived by the snake. When we began to learn of his evil, those who confronted him directly were either given to the goblins or turned to his side. The rest of us did as I do now, warn travelers when they arrive here and try to send them away. Most laugh at us, and some have even reported us. After a few more of our order disappeared, many of the remaining became too frightened to keep fighting. I am now one of the few who still watches during the night and moves within the shadows. That’s why I saw you approach, Seeker of the Key.”

“The key! That’s right, the key. Brother Callum, thank you for helping me escape, but please, do you know how I can find the Witch of Hours?” Eibhlin said.

“I had feared you might ask me that,” said the monk. “Please, miss, I beg you, don’t go to that dreadful lady. I wish you safety, and if you should go there, if I send you there, how shall my conscience rest?”

“Then you know the way?” asked Eibhlin.

With a sigh, the monk said, “Come.”

He led them through the halls, warning Eibhlin to watch her step. There were traps, he told them. Not deadly in themselves, but ones that would alert the abbot to their movement. The group crept down the halls, and by the time they reached the front door, Eibhlin had begun to notice things: a line of light on the floor where it should be dark, an odd stone here or there, and other subtle signs of the monastery’s ill purpose. The group at last made it outside. Under the bright half-moon and the glowing tree, the stars and the tepid air, the whole ordeal seemed a dream.

“Come, this way,” said the monk. He led her to the tree. “You must enter the Fae through here.”

“Through this tree? Does it lead to the witch? Are you sure?” asked Eibhlin.

“How can I be?” replied the monk. “I’ve never entered myself, and my brothers who did never returned. However, every new moon, the abbot travels through here, and if he isn’t seeking the witch, I don’t know why he would enter the Fae. Even if it leads to somewhere else, you must enter the Fae, for that is where the witch lives, and this is the only doorway I know.”

“He is right, Milady, and if we are to act, we must do so now. I do not think that if that abbot plans to sell you he will wait till tomorrow night. Most likely, he has already called his ‘business partners’ and only awaits their arrival. We must go while he is still unawares,” said Mel.

“Such is the truth,” said Callum. “I fear time is short. If you wish to leave, whether by the road or through this door, you mustn’t delay.”

Eibhlin looked up at the half-moon, and unease crept along her skin. She could already feel the door pulling her, could feel the Fae. She wished she could wait, but wait she could not. Stepping forward, she said, “I’ll take the fairy gate.”

Nodding, the monk said, “Very well. Then take this.” He pulled from his habit a small penknife. “It isn’t much, but it’s iron, and iron protects against and hurts the Fae better than any other metal.”

Eibhlin took the knife. “Thank you.”

“Now be off! Before your chance is wasted!”

“Stay safe, Brother Callum,” said Melaioni.

“Yes, please stay safe,” Eibhlin said.

Callum smiled. “As I’mim wills, and may His protection rest upon you and guide your steps. Farewell, Miss Eibhlin.”

With a sign of blessing, he sent them off, and Eibhlin ran straight through the doorway.